The Devil You Know: Reloaded
by cocobutterbella
Summary: Sam and Dean venture to Bon Temps to investigate the deaths of a couple of fang bangers. What looks like a dead end job, turns out to be more than the hunters could've bargained for. A canonically accurate mash-up of SPN Season 4 & TB Seasons 1 & 2 . This is a revised draft so events will be different. VERY DIFFERENT. I advise you to read it even if you've read the original.
1. Prologue: The Great Revelation

**Author's Note:**

Hi guys! So this is The Devil You Know: Reloaded. I've been stuck on the sequel (Clap Your Hands if You Believe) because of the plot holes in the original story. For the last couple of days I've been going back and revamping the story. I don't quite want to delete the original until I've completed this draft (Edit: Just reread the guidelines for posting stories and apparently you can't post multiple drafts of a story. I'll be deleting the original draft soon). But this _is _a final draft of the first installment of this series. For first time readers, the prologue takes place a few weeks after Sam & Dean's run-in with Lenore and her nest in episode 2x03 and the night of the Great Revelation. I plan to have the actual story occur during season four of Supernatural and season one of True Blood. I want to stay true to the characters and the plot as much as possible so please, review! Without further a due, I present The Devil You Know: Reloaded.

* * *

**Prologue:**

It had been over a month since their father had died, and Sam and Dean still had no leads on the Colt or the Yellow-Eyed Demon. In the mean time, they took whatever job they could find. They had just finished up a hunt in Indiana for Ellen, the usual vengeful spirit laid to rest with a simple salt and burn. Only this time they made the mistake of digging up a grave in broad daylight. The brothers decided to get the hell out of dodge, just in case anyone witnessed it.

Sam looked over at his brother, who was barreling down the interstate well above the speed limit. As usual, the music was too loud, and they'd been listening to the same Black Sabbath cassette for over four hours. Sam could tell his brother was preoccupied, his jaw clenched, his grip on the steering wheel so tight he could see his knuckles were white when a passing truck's headlights shined through the Impala. He contemplated asking Dean to confide in him again, the way he did alongside the road in Illinois. But he knew his brother, and he was too tired to start another argument. Sam glanced down at his watch; it was just after ten o'clock. They'd been driving for almost nine hours.

"We should probably stop and rest for the night," Sam suggested through a yawn.

"Fine, I'll turn down the music so you can take a nap, Nancy," Dean retorted as he reached for the volume. "I'm making good time, we could get to Iowa by morning."

"What the hell is in Iowa?" Sam inquired, annoyed.

Dean grabbed a newspaper from the back seat and threw it at Sam, eyes still on the road. "Looks like there's a job just outside of Des Moines. Five men died in an animal attack in the last two weeks, all missing their hearts. Sounds like our kinda thing. The lunar cycle fits," he looked over at Sam, "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"I'm thinking we've been hunting non-stop for weeks now, Dean," Sam mused as he scanned the article by flashlight. "And you're hanging on by a thread."

Dean shot his brother a warning glare, "For the last time, I'm fine," he forced through gritted teeth.

_Obviously_, Sam wanted to say. He was too worn out to start another argument with Dean. He tossed the newspaper in the backseat. "Look," he sighed, exhausted, "All I'm saying is we could benefit from a few hours of sleep and… a shower for that matter. We can hit the road first thing in the morning."

Dean's expression softened. He looked over at his little, well younger, brother. He noticed the weary look on Sam's face, the dark semi-circles forming underneath his eyes. He had to stop for the night. Hunting was important, but his number one job was looking after Sammy. "I saw a sign for a motel about ten miles back, it should be right off the next exit," he admitted.

* * *

Dean called dibs on the shower as they entered the motel room, throwing his duffle bag on the nearest bed. Sam flopped his long, tired body on the other bed while his older brother gathered clean clothes and toiletries. Sam didn't want to fall asleep before a shower, so he reached for the remote on the nightstand and turned on the television.

"If you hurry, Sammy, you can catch Casa Erotica, on Pay-Per-View while I'm gone," Dean teased as he threw a towel over his shoulder and made his way to the bathroom.

"Funny," Sam replied, as he channel surfed. As usual, late night TV had little to offer. He watched a few minutes of an old Van Damme movie on TNT before he settled for the eleven o'clock news. Sam's body tensed as he sat straight up in bed reading tonight's top story. Across the bottom of the television screen in bold, capital letters, "Vampires Exist: Creatures of the Night Come Out of the Coffin."

"Dean!" Sam bellowed. Dean flung open the bathroom door, struggling to keep his towel around his waist. His brows furrowed as he looked at his younger brother worried. Sam's eyes were glued to the television screen, his mouth agape.

"What is it, Sammy?" Dean asked, his eyes fixed on Sam.

Sam didn't reply. His eyes remained on the screen as he slowly raised his arm to turn up the volume with the remote. Dean turned his head towards the TV.

A very attractive blonde woman sat behind a desk alongside a male news anchor, giving him a warm smile as he asked her a question. She turned to the camera, and for a second the brothers were certain she had broken the fourth wall and was staring directly at them as she spoke.

"The public has nothing to fear from vampires. Some of the world's top scientists have been working in concert with my kind to create a synthetic blood product that will provide us with all of our nutritional needs. We no longer have to feed from humans. We just want to be able to live freely and have the same rights and privileges as you do."

"Son of a bitch," Dean uttered, he walked across the room and sat on his own bed, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Sam finally tore his eyes away from the TV looking at his brother, "C'mon, I mean didn't you expect something like this to happen? You remember what Lenore said. We were pushing her kind to the brink of extinction, it was only a matter of time before they'd find a way for us to coexist."

"Look," Dean began with a sigh, "I understand that not all vampires are bad, but c'mon Sam? You expect all of them to just give up the real thing for some stuff made in a science lab?"

"I'm not saying that we don't take this with a big fat grain of salt—" Sam started.

"Well then what are you saying," he quizzed, looking at Sam, expectantly.

"I don't know," he admitted, shaking his head. "I mean, they outted themselves because they're tired of hiding. Hell, maybe this could be a good thing."

Sam's gaze returned to the television, the reporter was now asking the blonde about crucifixes, holy water and other myths about vampires. Of course, the Winchesters knew a crucifix would do nothing to stop a vampire. There were a few ways to kill them, but the only surefire way their dad taught them was a wooden stake, right through the heart. That is if you were lucky enough to get close enough to stake one. Vampires were the perfect killing machines, and the older they got the harder they were to kill. Even when they were searching for the Colt with dad, the oldest vampire in that coven was barely two hundred years old. During the day they were helpless, of course., but it didn't matter how good of a hunter you were after dark. Taking on an ancient vampire alone at night was suicide. Sam suspected that's what probably troubled Dean the most. There weren't enough hunters in the world to take on something like this, not even with a hundred Colts. Silver could slow then down, but the older ones could hypnotize people. They'd heard plenty of hunters tell tall tales about vampires who were hundreds, even thousands, of years old. Sam and Dean had never encountered them, and didn't really want to. Now it seemed unavoidable. If vampires were outing themselves to society, what did this mean for other supernatural creatures… or hunters?

Dean stood up and started towards the bathroom. "I know one thing's certain," Sam began looking up at his brother. Dean stopped and looked across the room at Sam, one eyebrow raised intrigued, "This changes everything."


	2. Dean Winchester's Bon Temps Rag

**Author's Note:**

This chapter opens in the beginning of season four of Supernatural, sometime after Castiel tells Dean about the 66 Seals (after Dean catches Sam using his psychic abilities to exorcise demons) and the beginning of season one of True Blood. I hope you enjoy, and as always leave a review. ;)

* * *

"Well could you dig a little deeper, Bobby? We need all the intel we can get," Dean requested impatiently, as he exited a gas station a few miles outside of Springfield, Missouri. The summer heat, was suffocating as he walked towards the Impala. It had been a few weeks since he'd heard from Castiel, and he was tired of waiting for news about the seals.

"You mind your tone with me, boy," Bobby snapped. Dean could hear the exhaustion and mounting frustration in his voice over the phone. Between the Apocalypse and Sam's demonic psychic crap, Dean had been spread thin lately and the last person he needed to take it out on was Bobby.

"Sorry," he sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"Idjit," he heard Bobby smile through the phone, "looks like what your angel pal said about the seals checks out. There are over 600 possible seals, but only 66 of 'em need to be broken to let Satan out of his playpen."

"Well how the hell do we know which seals are gonna be broken?"

"Beats the hell out of me," Bobby answered. "I'll keep diggin'. You boys watch yourselves."

Dean shook his head, disappointed Bobby had little to offer. "Thanks, Bobby," he replied, flipping his phone closed. He opened the car door. Sam was waiting in the passenger seat, reading a newspaper.

"Bon Temps, Louisiana," Sam said, without looking up from his paper.

"What?" Dean asked as he closed the car door.

"A local woman was found strangled to death in her home… the victim had vampire bites. Blah, blah, blah…local authorities suspect a vampire," Sam continued.

"Suspect, as in the Mayberry's finest have no idea and they're just blaming the monster," Dean argued.

"I figured it was worth looking into. We've driven farther for less," Sam responded, finally looking up from his paper.

"I'm sorry, but don't fangers have their own laws about this sort of thing?" he posed, annoyed by such a trivial lead.

"When was the last time we went on an honest to goodness vampire hunt? Maybe this could help us get back in the swing of things," he paused for a moment. "I take it Bobby had nothing to offer on the Apocalypse front, so I figured we'd take a side-job."

"Yeah but vampires?" he looked away from his brother. The last vampire hunt they went on was about a year ago. A couple of baby vamps, namely Gordon Walker, were made then set loose. He smiled, remembering Sam decapitated the newborn fanger with his bare hands and razor wire. His smile faded when he thought about how they had to cover their tracks. Since the Great Revelation, hunting vampires became considered a hate crime. The American Vampire League was breathing down the neck of every law enforcement agency in the country. It was by far the worst time in history to be a hunter in America. Dean chuckled at the thought. _What the hell? I'd been itching for a hunt anyway._

"So the guy who's been bosom buddies with a demon for months wants to hunt down a fanger? What's the matter, Sammy I thought you liked monsters?" Dean scoffed.

"Is this about the job or is this about something else?" Sam asked sharply. It was no surprise that his brother would still be angry about him using his demonic powers, but criticizing his judgment as a hunter was getting old… fast.

Dean could sense his brother's anger, and he was too emotionally fatigued for another argument. "Was the body drained?" he asked, changing the subject.

Sam sighed, "Uhh, the article doesn't say. We'd have to check with the coroner's office." Dean started the engine, and the Impala purred as he put her in drive.

"Bon Bon it is," he said as he pulled out of the gas station parking lot. Sam didn't bother correcting him.

* * *

Dean pulled the Impala directly in front of the victim's home, where it seemed the entire town had gathered to watch. "Fucking buzzards," he grunted as he and Sam got out of the Impala. The heat was sweltering, especially in their G-man duds. The doors creaked as they slammed them shut. The yard was filled with Reynard Parish patrol cars. The coroner was struggling to load the body into the van. Across the street, a large blonde woman snapped a photo. "The hell is wrong with these people?" Dean asked, loud enough for the woman to hear.

"Well, there's not much else to do in small towns," Sam replied, matter-of-factly.

They hadn't even settled into their motel room, when they heard a call come in on their police scanner about a second victim. Another young woman, named Dawn Green had been found strangled in her home.

A stout, balding man in aviator sunglasses approached them as they walked across the lawn. "Woah, woah, woah, who the hell are you?" he asked, his voice coated with a thick southern accent.

Sam spoke first, "I'm Agent Plant and this is my partner Agent Bonham. We're with the FBI." They both showed they're badges.

"Like from Led Zeppelin," he noted with suspicion. "Detective Bellefleur," he announced. He placed his hands on his hips defensively, "Why the hell is the FBI interested in a murder investigation in my parish?"

"The FBI is interested in any case dealing with vampires, since legislation for the VRA started," Sam responded tersely.

"Well, this is my case, and I'm not gonna—"

"Sir, need I remind you the federal government has jurisdiction," Sam interrupted. Dean looked at his brother, amazed. Sometimes, Sammy was too good at being a fed.

"Andy," an older man in a cowboy hat approached them. "They're just here to help. Sheriff Dearborne," he tipped his hat at Sam and Dean. "You fellas said you're with the FBI?" They nodded, flashing their badges simultaneously.

"Well you gentlemen, made a long trip for nothing. We already have the perp in custody," the detective revealed, nodding at a patrol car behind them.

"Andy, Jason's just a suspect," the sheriff corrected.

The brothers shared a confused look, "I thought the report said the suspect was a vamp," Dean quizzed.

"The bite marks on the victims weren't fresh," the sheriff conceded, putting on aviator sunglasses. "We're going down to the station to interrogate Jason Stackhouse, you gentlemen are welcome to join us."

"Of course, " Dean agreed with a smile. "I'd like to have a word with my partner first," he said motioning to Sam. The sheriff and the detective walked over to their patrol car, where a blonde young man waited handcuffed in the backseat. "I don't know man, it looks like this isn't our kind of gig," Dean admitted.

"I'm not so sure," Sam scoured the scene as he took a moment to think. He noticed a skinny redhead across the street standing on her toes to get a better view. He turned away from Dean, looking at the victim's house. A pretty blonde was sitting on the porch beside a man in a plaid shirt and blue jeans.

"So…?" Dean inquired impatiently. It was too hot to be standing around a crime scene in the middle of the day.

"You go to the station," he said nodding towards the patrol car. "I'll check out the house and the coroner's office."

"I bet you will," he responded knowingly. He must have noticed the blonde, too.

"It's not like that," Sam said, almost too quickly.

"Sure it isn't," Dean teased as he walked towards the Impala. He turned and cupped his chest, as if they were breasts and gave his little brother a thumbs up. Sam ignored the obscene gesture and walked towards the house.

The closer he got to the porch, the more he realized how beautiful she was. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing her exquisite features. Long eyelashes rimmed her stunning brown eyes. Her shorts exposed shapely tanned legs. He stopped a few feet in front of her and the man she was sitting with. "I'm Agent Plant with the FBI," Sam lied. "If you don't mind I'd like to ask you a few questions."

The man spoke, "She already went through this with the police."

"It's alright, Sam," she placed a hand on the man's shoulder. _Was this her boyfriend,_ Sam thought.

The man stood, "I've gotta get back to the bar, if you want me to stay here with you—"

"I'll be fine," she responded, feigning a smile. _Her voice was so light and sweet,_ he thought. He found her accent charming. She stood to hug the man. Sam noticed that his brother was right about her breasts.

"You just call me if you need anything," he turned to walk away, glaring at Sam. _What the hell was that about?_

"Oh, Sam's just a little overprotective, sometimes," she explained with a wave of her hand. _Did I say that out loud?_ She extended her hand, with a nervous smile, "I'm Sookie Stackhouse," she introduced herself politely, as if they were at a church picnic rather than a crime scene.

Sam returned her smile, he noticed his hand was trembling at her touch. She had such soft skin. He cursed himself for being awkward around women. He cleared his throat, "You were the one that found the body, correct?"

"Yes," she took a deep breath to calm herself before explaining how she discovered her friend's body. Sam watched her mouth as she spoke. He marveled at her beautiful lips, he wondered if they were as soft as her hands. He struggled to regain focus when he noticed her lips weren't moving anymore.

"And your brother arrived shortly after you found her?" he asked, annoyed with himself.

"Yes," she began slowly, "he said he wanted to apologize to Dawn, after getting in a fight with her last night."

"Did he say what the fight was about?"

She shook her head; her ponytail swung from side to side, landing on her shoulder and falling down her back. "But my brother's a horndog. It could've been about anything," she mused.

Sam chuckled to himself knowingly. "If you think of anything else," he handed her a business card, "you can reach me at the at that number."

She eyed the card suspiciously before looking back up at him. "I'll be sure to do that." She flashed another nervous smile before turning and walking away. Sam had been hunting long enough to know something didn't feel quite right. Maybe this was their kind of job, maybe it wasn't. He watched as the blonde got into a yellow subcompact and backed out of the driveway. This Sookie Stackhouse was hiding something.


	3. V is for Vampire

**Author's Note:**

One thing that I've sort of forgotten to mention is that I pull lines directly from the shows. If it ain't broke don't fix it, right? Well just so we're clear I know that True Blood and Supernatural belong to their creators and their respective networks. I am not trying to make a profit off of any of this. I just thought it would be cool to mash-up both of these awesome (and incredibly similar) shows in a way that stays true to the canon of both series. However this is fanfiction so anticipate some slash. ;) Leave a review!

* * *

Sookie let out a heavy sigh as she entered Gran's. The last thing on earth she wanted to do was tell her grandmother that Jason had been arrested for murder. The family had been through so much, and though the Stackhouses were resilient they were still human. When Sookie was a child, Gran would often compare the family to their old house. "We've endured so many hardships, Sookie. But just like this house we stand firm, together. We've been around too long not to."

Sookie made her way to the kitchen and was surprised to see her Gran staring out of the window vacantly. When she noticed Sookie standing in the doorway she placed a hand on her chest. "I heard," she answered Sookie before she could even ask. "He didn't do it, y'know." Sookie marveled at Gran's strength. She didn't know why she expected the news to devastate her grandmother.

She stood in the doorway under Gran's scrutiny. "I know," she replied, annoyed that her voice went up an octave. She didn't want to doubt her brother's innocence, but Jason had been hiding so much from her lately, she wasn't quite sure what to believe.

"Jason may be a lot of things, but he is not a murderer," Gran insisted sternly. Sookie looked at her grandmother, perplexed. Sometimes she wondered if Gran could read minds, too.

"I know," she repeated, this time a little more sure of herself. She stepped into the kitchen, closer to her grandmother.

"In all the years I've lived in Bon Temps, I can only recall two… maybe three murders and now there are two in one week," Gran asserted. "People are not going to stand for it. And if the police can't find the person who did it then they are gonna find Jason. He needs your help," she pleaded.

Sookie shook her head in disbelief. "Gran, how am I supposed to—"

"Use the gift God gave you," she interrupted. "Listen in on people. Keep your ears open you're bound to hear somethin'."

"But Gran, it's got nothin' to do with my ears."

"Whatever it is you use to listen, use it. He is your brother, Sookie," she begged.

Sookie had never considered using her telepathy this way. Reading people's minds non-stop was more of a nuisance than a gift. She often times had to concentrate so hard to stay out of people's heads that it made her own head hurt. Gran was desperate, but she was right. All the Stackhouses had were each other. She couldn't let Jason go to prison for a crime he didn't commit. "Okay, Gran," she agreed.

Gran simply smiled. "Good girl," she breathed a sigh of relief, opening her arms. Sookie hugged her grandmother; thankful to have her as a rock she could lean on in times like this. She suddenly remembered the FBI agent from earlier this afternoon.

Sookie couldn't tell if it was shock, but for whatever reason, reading his mind just felt different. Being in such a stressful environment made it harder to concentrate on blocking out people's thoughts, but his… they were fuzzy, and difficult to make out. Gran released Sookie, and busied herself with tidying up the kitchen. Sookie reached into her purse and fished out the business card he gave her. Something was definitely up with them. She intended to figure out what.

* * *

"It make you hot Jason? Killin' girls and sitckin' it to 'em," Andy probed. Dean shook his head. This was by far the worst police interrogation he had ever witnessed. "'Cause I think it does, I think it turns you on," Andy snarled.

"Seems to me like it turns you on," Jason quipped. Dean snorted, this Jason Stackhouse might have been an idiot, but he had to admit he liked his style.

The detective's frustration was building. He glared at Dean before continuing, "Tell me is that how you do it? Kill 'em then fuck 'em? Or do you fuck 'em and then kill 'em," he barked, standing over Jason menacingly. Jason squirmed in his seat; he started to sweat. "I know! You strangle 'em as you're fuckin' em—"

"—Detective," Dean interrupted. Something was up with Stackhouse, but Dean couldn't confirm his suspicions until they were alone. "I'd like to have a word with Mr. Stackhouse… alone." Sheriff Dearborne, who had been sitting quietly throughout the interrogation, finally spoke up.

"You heard the man, Andy," he stood to leave the room.

Andy scowled at Jason, leaning in closer before hissing, "This ain't over, Stackhouse." The two left, Andy slamming the door behind him. When Dean was sure they were alone, he turned off the microphone that had been recording Jason's statement. Dean noticed the man's face was losing color; he was sweating profusely. Dean stood, opening a file that was on the table.

"According to this police report, you mentioned another video of the first victim, Maudette Pickins, having sex with a vampire?"

"Yeah," he responded, before doubling over in his seat. He took a moment to examine Stackhouse. He was a mess. Sweat dripped from his nose onto the table. He was in pain, and Dean knew exactly why.

"Jason, I gotta tell you, you don't look so good," Dean said, sauntering lazily around the room. He reached into his pocket, and set a small, empty vial on the table. "It wouldn't have anything to with you downing this entire vial of vampire blood, now would it?" Dean asked.

"Err, no," Jason whimpered.

"Really?" he started skeptically. "'Cause I found it in the backseat of Detective Bellefleur's patrol car." Jason began to shake. He was sweating bullets at this point. "Now, I don't care about the V, Jason. What I care about is finding out the truth."

"Really?" Jason grunted.

"Let me guess. You find out Dawn is a fang banger. You two get into an argument, you go and get some V—"

"—I didn't really need it, but…" he grimaced in pain, unable to finish his sentence.

"How's a guy supposed to compete with a vampire?" Dean finished for him. He could relate. Since they came out of the coffin women just threw themselves at vamps. They were everywhere these days, books, TV, movies, even porn. Nothing was sacred. Dean watched Jason for a second. He was hunched over in his seat, face twisted from the discomfort of a massive erection. _Poor guy,_ Dean thought as he took a seat. Jason obviously wasn't a bad guy, just a dumb ass caught in a bad situation. "Where's this video tape?" Dean asked.

"I dunno," Jason said through gritted teeth, "Maybe the fuckin' fanger took it with him."

"Well can you at least, describe the vampire from the video?" Before Jason could answer, there was a woman yelling outside the door.

"Where is he?" she shouted, before flinging the door open. Dean stood up as a woman in shorts and a tank top entered the room. Dean admired her brown skin and ample breasts. _Did every chick in this town have an awesome rack? _Dean contemplated talking to a local realtor.

"God dammit, Tara you can't just walk in on an interrogation," Andy scolded, following in behind her.

"You plannin' on chargin' him with anything, Andy?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. The sheriff appeared in the doorway.

"Well no, not yet," Sheriff Dearborne replied. "Federal Agent Bonham and Andy were just asking him some questions," he said motioning to Dean.

"Well, I'll assume he's been properly Mirandized," she retorted tersely. The Sheriff looked at Andy, who shifted uneasily. _Morons,_ Dean thought.

"Please tell me you informed him he has a right to have an attorney present," she said, folding her arms.

"Maybe, doesn't matter 'cause he's got you here now," Andy scoffed.

"Is that funny because I'm a woman or because I'm a _black _woman?" Dean couldn't help but smile. She was fearless. "C'mon Jason, let's go," she motioned for him to get up.

"Now wait one god damn minute-," Andy started.

"If you're not charging him with anything then you can't keep him," she interrupted. Andy clinched his fists. She didn't even blink, raising her chin defiantly.

"Andy, she's right. We can't hold him," Dearborne stated plainly.

"C'mon! He can't even account for his whereabouts last night!" Andy exclaimed.

Jason stood up, both of his hands shielding his crotch, "Andy, I told you I was home alone," he asserted.

"You don't have to keep lyin', baby," Tara put an arm around him. "Last night, Jason was with me," she announced, turning her attention to Detective Bellefleur.

"Bullshit," he sneered. He turned to the sheriff, "You don't believe that bullshit do you?"

"Well it's the truth," Tara began, "I just didn't want anyone to know about it because people are so ignorant in this town, especially when it comes to interracial couples," she wrapped an arm around him and stared at Jason longingly.

"And you're willing to go on record with this?" the sheriff inquired.

"If you gotta bible I'll swear on it right now," she said raising her chin.

"Well, I guess he's free to go," the sheriff conceded, moving out of the way to let Tara and Jason pass. Dean watched Tara as she walked away, her long braids cascading down her back, leading to a pert ass. Smart, sexy, brave and possibly taken. _Well, she's not married_, Dean reasoned.

"This is horse shit and you know it," Andy exclaimed as he exited the room. The sheriff shook his head before addressing, Dean who was pocketing the empty vial that was still on the table.

"Don't mind Andy," he said with a wave of his hand. "He's a hot head, but he means well. Is there anything else I can do for you, Agent Bonham?"

"Err, yeah actually," Dean answered. "Know where I can get some good Southern food?"

The sheriff chuckled, "Well sure. Everyone knows Merlotte's has the best chicken fried steak in town." Dean smiled graciously at the sheriff and made his way out of the police department and to his beloved car. Maybe this was their kind of gig after all.

* * *

"Looks like there's more to do in this bum-fuck town than just stand around a crime scene," Dean announced as he entered the motel room. He took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie before sitting down on his bed. "But of course, you already knew that," he winked at Sam who was sitting at the small dining table on his laptop. "Find anything at the crime scene, other than that nice rack?" He snickered at Sam who was shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"Don't talk about her like that," Sam admonished, not looking up from his computer. "And no," he sighed answering his brother's question, "the house was clean." He leaned forward to grab a folder on the table and handed it to Dean. "The sheriff was right about the bite marks not being fresh. The bodies weren't drained, either. But get this. Rumor has it Maudette and Dawn were fang bangers. They both frequented this vampire bar down in Shreveport."

"These days who isn't fang bangin'?" He mused, flipping through the coroner's report. Dean caught his brother looking at him suspiciously. "Obviously I don't mean me," he started.

Sam shook his head with a smile, happy to watch his brother hang himself. He continued. "There were no signs of a break-in, in both victims houses, which suggests they either knew their killer—"

"Or he glamoured his way in." Dean concluded.

"What happened with Jason Stackhouse?" Sam inquired, more concerned about Sookie than her brother. After all, she had found her friend dead and watched her brother get arrested all in the same day. He spent the last hour searching for more information on her. He discovered that her parents died in a flash flood when she was just a girl. One of the worst parts about the job was watching innocent people's lives being torn to shreds.

"Kojak grilled him hard enough. Poor guy's not our killer, though. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Dean stood up and grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge. "He's not entirely innocent though," he added.

"What makes you say that?"

Dean took a swig of his beer, "Well, he slept with every woman in Reynard parish, including our victims. And, I found this in the backseat of Detective Bellefleur's squad car." Dean pulled the empty vial out of his pocket and set it on the table.

"Vampire blood," Sam mused, examining it. "You think Jason's on V?"

"It would explain how this guy has the stamina to dick around as much as he does. I mean he puts me to shame. Not to mention he was a little weird at the station. I figure he must've downed the whole thing, to get rid of the evidence." He paused for a moment. "Maybe Maudette and Dawn were users," he deduced.

"Tox screens for both of them were clean," Sam responded.

"Yeah, but V doesn't show up on any test, it's just blood," he explained. "Maybe a vampire at that bar found out about both our victims being users. I mean it's against their laws to distribute and use V, too."

"Let's go," Sam said, closing his laptop.

Dean stopped him. "Woah, we're not gonna just walk into a vampire bar. We're hunters Sam, they'll smell us coming from a mile away."

"Not if we have a cover," Sam suggested.

"What, you mean us goin' in as fang bangers? You're out of your mind, Sam. You've been out in the heat too long." Dean sat his beer down and began rummaging through his duffle bag for a change of clothes.

Sam got up from the table. "Look, something supernatural is going on in this town. Someone is targeting these women. Now if we don't do something about it, someone else can get hurt. This bar is our one shot. We have to take it." Sam stared at his brother in earnest. "And if you don't trust me, then I get it. I'll just do alone."

Dean placed the clothes down on the bed, and looked at his brother. "No. I'm not gonna let you do this alone," he insisted. "Or on an empty stomach. Let's just get some food in us first. Maybe we'll find someone in town who knows something about this vampire bar. At least we'll know what we're walking into before we walk into it." With that he picked up his clothes and headed to the bathroom.

Sam reopened his laptop and continued reading the article on the Stackhouse's death. There was definitely something going on with this girl. Sam wished he knew what it was.


	4. On the Clock

**Author's Note:**

For those of you who've read the first draft of this story, you're definitely going to be in for a surprise. A while back I had a discussion with a beta reader about how Sookie would be introduced to the concept of hunters and how Sookie's telepathy should be revealed to Sam & Dean. I chose to take a more subtle approach, as suggested by my beta reader. So I'll shut up now. Let me know what you think! Leave a review!

* * *

Sookie kept what Gran said in mind as she tried her best to listen in on people's thoughts at work. She ignored Sam's suggestion to take the night off. She wasn't going to sit at home when she could do something to help her brother clear his name. The bar was busy tonight. Apparently murder was good for business. She held her head high, despite the fact that one of her friends was dead and her brother was accused of murder.

At a booth in the corner, a man was thinking about how gorgeous Dawn's tits were. Sookie shuddered. People could be so nasty. She carried a cheeseburger deluxe with fries to one of her tables where a woman was sitting quietly, drinking a Coke. _Filthy fang banger had it comin'… and you're next, _the woman thought as she approached the table. "Let me get you a refill," she said tersely grabbing the woman's cup and heading for the bar.

"I asked for ranch with these fries!" the woman yelled after her. She didn't understand how people could be so despicable. One of her friends is dead, and no one cared, no one but her.

"That Dawn sure left us high and dry. Didn't she?" Arlene complained as she sat her tray down on the bar.

"You can't seriously be blamin' her right now? She was murdered," Sookie argued, placing her hands on her hips.

"Well, I'm just sayin' if she didn't spend her nights up at that vamp bar in Shreveport, she'd still be alive," Arlene retorted.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," Sookie replied, shaking her head. "I can't believe it still surprises me how ignorant you rednecks can be sometimes," she glanced down at Arlene's tray before continuing, "I'm takin' your ranch," she said defiantly. As she sat the small bowl of ranch dressing on the woman's table she noticed the two FBI agents walk in. They weren't wearing their suits, but had changed into jeans and flannel shirts.

Sookie couldn't help but notice how handsome they both were, and tall. She had to crane her neck to look up at the one who spoke to her outside of Dawn's house. Reading his mind earlier felt strange. From what she could make out the only thing he was thinking about while he was questioning her was her body, but there was a buzz that dulled his thoughts. Of course she may have just been distracted earlier. Sookie chocked it up to shock. She decided to play it subtle tonight. She took a deep breath and walked over to greet them. "Just two?" she asked as she grabbed a couple of menus.

"Yeah," they replied simultaneously. She walked them over to a booth and placed the menus down on the table.

"Miss Stackhouse, I don't believe you've met my partner, Agent Bonham," Agent Plant said as he sat down.

"Hi, I'm Sookie Stackhouse," she said, extending her hand. Agent Bonham smiled, revealing crow's feet at the corners of his gorgeous green eyes, and a strong set of white teeth.

"You can call me Dean," he said, accepting her hand. "Stackhouse? As in Jason Stackhouse's..?"

"Sister," she finished, taking out her pen and pad, "Now what can I get for you gentlemen?" While they took a minute to look over the menu, she listened in closely. They hadn't been in town long, but surely they had to have some sort of information on the case.

"I'll have the mud bug platter as an appetizer and a bacon cheeseburger with extra grilled onions," Dean ordered with a polite smile. _Maybe I shouldn't go with the extra onions. _Sookie scribbled down the order frantically while attempting to listen in carefully. _Holy shit, there's the girl from the police station. Play it cool, Winchester. What was her name? Tina? Tasha_. Sookie maintained an attentive smile, although she internally wondered why Agent Bonham referred to himself as Winchester. She shrugged it off, assuming it was a nickname. Maybe he was handy with a rifle. What troubled her the most was the fact that Tara had gone to the sheriff's department earlier.

"And what can I get for you?" she asked, turning her attention to Agent Plant. She made sure to focus all of her attention onto his thoughts, but just like at the crime scene, they were blurry, like a radio station with static interference. She could only make out so much. There was something about a salad, and she thought she heard the name Jessica.

"I'll just have the Cajun chicken salad," he ordered, his attention glued to the menu. Sookie stared at him, bewildered. This had never happened to her before. The only person whose mind she couldn't read was Bill's and that was because he was a vampire.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" Dean asked, snapping her back to reality. They both looked at her in confusion.

Sookie laughed nervously before shaking her head. "I'm fine, just still a little upset about Dawn is all." She mustered a convincing worried look. "And I'm worried about my brother. I mean, you have to understand, Jason's not the smartest tool in the shed, but he ain't a killer." She looked from one agent to the other. "I'll be back with a pitcher of Bud. On the house." Sookie hurried away from the booth and placed their order with Lafayette. She then went to the bar. "Tara, I'm gonna need a pitcher of Bud for table six. It's for the FBI guys."

Tara was swamped with orders. "You're gonna have to give me a minute, Sook."

Sookie went behind the bar and grabbed Tara's elbow. "Well then while I wait you can tell me why you were down at the police station, today," she whispered into her friend's ear.

"Do you really wanna do this right now, bitch? I'm workin'!" Tara retorted as she placed another whiskey sour in front of Jane Bodehouse.

"Either you tell me now or I'll dig it out of your head later," Sookie hissed impatiently.

"Well fuck you very much for tryin' to help your retarded ass brother," Tara exclaimed, snatching a pitcher from the bottom cabinet and filling it with beer. "Here's your Bud," she shouted.

"Thanks," Sookie huffed as she placed the pitcher and two cold mugs on a serving tray. She put on a smile and headed back to the booth. "Here you go. One free pitcher of beer, gentlemen. Your food should be up shortly." She turned to walk away.

"Excuse me, miss," one of them called her back to the table. It was Plant. "Listen we really hate to bother you, but would you mind answering a few more questions for us?"

Sookie obliged, pulling up a chair from a vacant table and sitting down. "I can spare five minutes." She honed in on Dean while Plant spoke. _Don't look at her tits, don't look at her tits. That's right. Pay attention to Sam. Give her the puppy dog eyes, Sam. They really eat that shit up. _"I'm sorry what?"

"The vampire bar? In Shreveport? Do you know anything about it?" Agent Plant asked, looking at her expectantly.

"Uhhh… no, but I know someone who might." Was it wrong to assume Bill Compton would know about a vampire bar a few towns over? He didn't seem like the type of vampire who would go to a place like that, but then again she had never really been there herself. She didn't know what to expect at a vampire bar. "There's a vampire, he just moved into town. He's very nice, but he might know something about the place." Sookie couldn't help but feel like she was betraying Bill. Was it okay to assume these guys wouldn't implicate Bill like the rest of the town did? She watched uneasily as the two exchanged glances.

"This vampire got a name?" Dean asked.

"Bill. Bill Compton. Like I said he's very nice so—"

"We're not jumping to any conclusions, we're just looking for the truth," Agent Plant assured her. She now understood what Dean meant about the puppy dog thing. She'd never seen a stranger's eyes that were so saturated with concern. "We know this must be a very difficult time for you Miss Stackhouse. I assure you we're doing the best we can to find out who did this to your friend" Agent Plant insisted. He placed his hand on hers. Sookie took the opportunity to try and read his mind. Sometimes the physical contact helped. There was still a haze, but at least now she could hear him.

_I wonder if I should tell her my first name too. C'mon Sam don't be an idiot. You're a hunter. She'd just end up hurt or worse… Just let her hand go. Think about what happened Jessica. Let her go—_He suddenly released her hand and placed them underneath the table.

"I-I'll go check on your order," Sookie insisted, getting up from the table. That's when she noticed Jason walking into the bar. "Oh thank God," she breathed as she rushed towards him. He looked a mess, covered in sweat with his eyes slightly sunken in. Sookie tried not to notice. "Jason, you look me in the eye and you tell me the truth," she started sternly. "Did you kill Dawn?"

"What? No!" he replied, offended by her question. "Jesus, Sook!" He looked around the bar before continuing. "Look, when Maudette died I thought I might've done it, but it turned out that I didn't. With Dawn, I don't even think I might've done it, so I know I didn't do it." Sookie shook her head at her brother's so-called irrefutable logic.

"You swear?"

Jason let out an exasperated sigh. "Well with the way you're actin' it seems like you want it to be me."

Her expression softened. "Sorry," she apologized. "Gran asked me to listen in on folks to see if I can clear your name and—"

He raised his hands to silence her, "Look I gotta stop ya 'cause it seems like you're revvin' up for a long one and I really need to see Lafayette." He patted her on the shoulder apologetically. "I'll talk to ya later." Sookie watched her brother walk towards the kitchen, offended that he brushed her off so callously when she was sticking her neck out for him. She shrugged it off and continued her work, until she felt Bill's presence. She decided to check on her tables first before walking over and taking his hand. "We need to talk," she insisted. She led him outside and waited for a couple to walk in before she spoke. "What does it mean when someone says they're a hunter?" she asked, attempting to say the word the same way she heard it in Sam's head.

Bill's face grew grim. "You met a hunter?"

"I don't know. It's just… I read this guy's mind in there and he mentioned something about being a hunter like it was a bad thing. I mean I don't like it when Jason goes buck huntin', but—"

"Sookie, hunters are dangerous people. You need to stay away from them." She furrowed her brow, confused by Bill's sudden prejudice. So many people tell her the same thing about vampires and here Bill was living proof that not all of them were monsters. Why was he so bent out of shape about hunting animals?

"He's an FBI agent, and he has a partner. They're here about my friend Dawn. She was murdered last night."

"How?" he asked plainly. Sookie was taken aback by how callous he was about death. It just rolled off his back like water on a duck.

"You're supposed to say you're sorry. If you wanna fit in with people you gotta say you're sorry. You don't even have to mean it, Lord knows they don't," she said motioning to the people inside the bar.

Bill took her advice and mustered a very strained, "I _am _sorry."

"Thank you… Anyway, I'm the one who found her, strangled. And these two FBI guys are here and I think they think a vampire might've done it. Cops think it was my brother."

"Was it?" he asked plainly.

"No he's not capable of it."

"I've been around long enough to know that just about anyone is capable of just about anything."

"He didn't do it," she insisted. Bill simply nodded in agreement.

"Those men aren't FBI. Whatever they've told you, Sookie, is a lie. Hunters kill people like me… and you. They can't be trusted."

She suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for telling them about Bill. "W-what do you mean people like you?" she stammered. "You mean vampires? And if that's the case then what does it have to do with me? I'm human, for cryin' out loud."

"Human yes, but your telepathy is unnatural to them. They don't care about the VRA or the American Vampire League. Hunters are the reason for the great revelation. They were pushing our kind to the brink of extinction. We deserve to live just as freely as humans do under protection of the law." Bill stepped closer to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye. "Their sole mission is to hunt and kill supernatural beings. You cannot trust them, Sookie."

The closeness and the intensity of his gaze made her breath catch in her throat. Although Bill had a callous disregard for human emotions, she could tell he truly and deeply cared for her safety. Sookie simply nodded. When he could see that she understood he released her. "What about that vampire bar? I know Maudette and Dawn used to go there."

"Fangtasia," Bill mused. Sookie repeated the name. After all it wasn't as… tough as she would've imagined. "You have to understand, Sookie, most vampires are very old. The pun used to be the highest form of humor."

She paused for a moment, still a little amused by such a cheesy name for a bar. "Well… I was thinkin' if I went there, maybe I could sniff around. You think, maybe you can take me?

"How 'bout tonight?"

"Sure, the sooner the better. Let me just finish up my shift and we'll meet up at my place after I'm changed." She could see the wheels turning behind his eyes as a charming smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. "It's not a date, Bill."

"Fine," he replied. The smirk refused to fade.

"Bill, I'm serious," she admonished playfully.

"As am I," he responded in that gentlemanly Southern drawl that reminded her of an old movie she'd seen on TCM. Sookie simply shook her head and tried not to blush, but she could already feel the blood rushing to her face. She hurried to resume her shift, feeling Bill's eyes on her as she walked inside.

She headed for Sam & Dean's table but it was empty. Sookie spotted Arlene hurrying across the room holding a tray full of loaded skins. "Hey Arlene, what happened to my table six?" she asked.

"If you'd spend your shifts actually workin' instead of shootin' the breeze with a vampire then you'd notice that Lafayette had been yellin' 'order up' for the last fifteen minutes. They waited for their food so long that when I finally brought it to them they asked for to go boxes. They left no more 'n five minutes ago," Arlene hissed impatiently. _I took your $12 tip too. _

Sookie rolled her eyes and checked her watch. She had another hour left on the clock. She mulled over whether or not Sam would let her leave early so she could check out that vampire bar. _Fangtasia?_


	5. Out of the Bag

**Author's Note:**

Hello there. How many of you love the movie Ten Inch Hero? Well for fans of Boaz Priestly, I've included a little visual gift from me to you as Sam and Dean go undercover... deep undercover.

* * *

Sam hurried back to their table inside the bar. A redhead came over carting their food. "I apologize for the wait, gentlemen," she huffed as she placed their plates on the table. "Your order's been up for a while, but it looks like your waitress is M.I.A…. again," she sighed impatiently.

"That's okay," Dean replied, rubbing his hands together greedily before picking up a crawdad.

"Actually can we get this to go?" Sam asked, interrupting Dean before he could take the first bite. The waitress let out a heavy, exasperated sigh as she placed the food back on the tray and headed towards the kitchen.

Dean frowned. "What's goin' on?" he asked.

Sam threw money on the table for the bill, he didn't care that it was too much. "We're blown," he said in a hushed voice.

"What do you mean we're blown? Who made us?" Dean whispered.

Without an explanation Sam rose from his seat. "There's an exit in the back," Sam motioned to the kitchen. The two walked towards the back of the bar but the waitress tried to stop them.

* * *

Dean whipped the Impala onto the parish road as he slurped meat from one of the crawdads. "So she told the vampire we were hunters? How did she even know?"

Sam looked up from searching his smart phone for an address to Fangtasia. "She mentioned something about reading our minds," he revealed, recalling the conversation he overheard earlier. Soon after Sookie went outside with the vampire, Sam got up from the table to use the restroom. Instead he went out back and around the bar to check on the waitress. He admitted to himself that it was a bit silly spying on the poor girl, but two women who were associated with vampires were murdered in the last week. He just wanted her to be safe.

Dean looked over at his brother. "She read our minds, Sam?" he asked incredulously.

"There's tons of lore on telepathy, Dean," he retorted.

"Yeah… but normally when we run into people with psychic powers…" Dean's voice trailed off. He kept his eyes on the road. Sam looked over at his brother. He was more than peeved by what he was implying.

"The yellow-eyed demon's dead, Dean," he strained to keep his voice calm, but the anger was boiling underneath the surface. "For all we know, those psychic kids killed each other off or their powers died with him."

"Yours didn't," Dean argued. "Who's to say old yellow eyes's blood isn't in this girl? I mean you said her parents were dead—"

"They died in a flood Dean!" The anger was boiling over. His voice was louder than he anticipated.

"You said yourself once that not everyone fit the pattern. There's no telling how many of you are left. And she's BFF with a vampire?"

"Yeah, your point?"

"Maybe she's yankin' your chain, Sam. Maybe she knew you were listening. Maybe this Fangtasia thing is a trap." Dean took his eyes off the road for a brief moment to look at Sam.

"She's not like that," Sam responded tersely. "She's just trying to help her brother."

"Just like you're trying to help me, by killing Lilith with your mind? Newsflash Sam, I'm not in hell anymore. And Stackhouse is already out of jail. I mean it wouldn't be the first time you let some chick lead you astray."

He had heard enough. This wasn't about psychic kids, vampires, the yellow-eyed demon or Sookie. Dean didn't trust his judgment at all anymore. If he did, he certainly wasn't showing it. Sam had been holding in his frustration ever since Dean found out about his ability to exorcise demons with his mind. He was tired of apologizing or feeling sorry for it. "Stop the car," he fumed.

Dean looked over at him, confused. "What?"

"Stop the car or I will," he bellowed. Dean pulled off to the side of the dark country road. As soon as he put the car in park Sam got out and headed towards the woods. He stopped for a moment and turned around to face Dean, who was still standing next to the Impala. "You wanna know why I've been lying to you, Dean? Because of shit like this!"

"Like what?" Dean asked defensively.

"The way you talk to me! The way you look at me, like I'm a freak!"

"I do not," Dean retorted.

"Or even worse, like I'm an idiot. Like I don't know the difference between right and wrong!" He felt his voice growing louder, piercing the quiet of the night but he didn't care. He looked at Dean who was staring back him, as if he had something to say. "What?"

He took a moment before answering. "Do you? Do you know the difference Sam? Because working with Ruby, using your psychic crap… I mean you been kinda strollin' a dark road lately."

"You have no idea what I'm going through," Sam argued. "None."

"Enlighten me!" Dean shouted into the night.

"I've got demon blood in me, Dean! This disease pumping through my veins and I can't ever rip it out or scrub it clean! I'm a whole new level of freak!" He could see Dean's face soften. "And I'm, I'm just trying to take this curse and make something good out of it, because I have to."

Dean waited a moment before speaking, but when he did his tone had softened as well. "Well, let's just go talk to the girl." Sam huffed skeptically. He couldn't even mention her by name. "I mean Sookie. We'll meet her at this club and see what's what." He was glad Dean was making an effort to understand, but he knew his brother wouldn't get it. He'd never understand what it was like to be a freak, to drink demon blood in order to save lives. To Dean, saving the day was as simple as_point and shoot_. Sam was treading a fine line here, and he knew it, but he also knew that he was helping people. He was saving the world. And that part felt pretty good.

Sam let out a long, heavy sigh and tried to push his anger aside. "If we do this, we're gonna need to look the part."

* * *

"I look like a fucking douche," Dean complained, adjusting his pleather pants as he stepped out of the Impala. The brothers walked over to the long line of gothic wannabes outside of the vampire nightclub. "I mean seriously, dude. Was the eyeliner necessary?"

Sam smiled as he combed his long bangs into his face with his fingers. "It brings out your eyes," he teased.

"Say that again or so help me, I will shoot you in the knee caps." Sam had to admit they did go a little overboard. He used a ton of gel to form a faux-hawk for Dean. They had found a Hot Topic in a nearby Shreveport shopping center where they bought pleather pants, eyeliner, dog collars and a few magnetic piercings. Sam hoped the disguises would be enough to keep them from being noticed. As far as they could tell, Sookie and the vampire hadn't arrived yet. Sam glanced down at his studded watch. It was just after eleven. They waited in line for what seemed like ages. By the time they'd reached the front it was nearly midnight.

A long legged blonde vampire in a black leather corset and spiked heels was at the door. She rolled her eyes as they stepped towards her. "I'm gonna need to see some ID," she purred in a thick southern drawl. They both handed her their fake IDs, casually. "Dean Hasselhoff and Sam Pledetzky from Toledo, Ohio, huh?" She eyed them both suspiciously.

Dean smiled. "No relation to the Hoff," he said with a wink.

"Right," she nodded, not at all amused. "Cute shirt," she remarked absentmindedly, referring to Sam's t-shirt that said, "Bite Me."

Sam looked down at his shirt and mustered a "thank you," before offering a smile.

Her face remained an apathetic deadpan. She handed them both their cards. "You boys sure did come a long way for a drink," she noted, seemingly uninterested. Sam took it as his opportunity.

"Well, we're actually here because of our cousin, Dawn Green. She was murdered last night and we had a few questions." Sam pulled out a picture of her and showed it to the vampire. "She used to come to this bar. You remember seeing her with anybody, maybe someone showed her some unwanted attention?"

She raised an eyebrow at the photo. "Yeah… I remember her. Didn't get a chance to taste her though," she looked up at Dean. "She's not exactly my type," she continued, not breaking eye contact with the elder Winchester. Dean laughed nervously under the vampire's scrutiny. "You boys go right on in. Tell the bartender the first round's on me," she insisted.

The brothers exchanged glances before heading inside. Fangtasia wasn't exactly how they imagined it would be. The walls were a blood red with gothic paintings and pop-art posters all over the place. There was a booth set up with Fangtasia memorabilia like t-shirts, mugs, even fake sets of fangs. "Looks like someone's making a profit off of the Great Revelation," Sam remarked with a huff.

Dean looked around warily. "The music sucks and the chicks belong in a freak show," he shouted above the loud boom of dubstep bass, as a woman walked by with tape over her nipples and purple spiked hair. "I'm gonna need that drink, now." Sam followed Dean to the bar, where a tattooed Native American bartender flashed his fangs.

"What can I get you?"

"I'll have a beer," Dean ordered.

The vampire sped over to the opposite end of the bar and grabbed a bottle of beer from a cooler. He was back in front Dean in the blink of an eye.

"The she-vamp at the door said the first round was on her," Dean stated, before taking a swig. The vampire nodded knowingly.

"What else can I do for you gentlemen?" He leaned in closer to the two of them. Sam couldn't help but feel something was off. He decided to question the vamp, anyway.

"We're actually here because our cousin was murdered last night. She used to come to this bar." He handed him her picture. "Do you remember seeing her in here with someone?" Sam probed.

"It's kinda not my job to notice," he admitted. "But I'm sure the owner might know something."

Dean patted Sam on the shoulder. "Well that's great," he smiled. "You think maybe we can talk to him?"

The vampire smiled. "Sure, I'll take you to his office." Sam gave Dean a wary look. He didn't have a good feeling about this at all.

"You don't have to go through the trouble," Sam said with a wave of the hand.

The vamp's smile faded. "No, I insist." Sam shifted his ankle, assuring himself that the Ruby's bone-handled blade in his boot would be enough to fend off the undead bastard should he try anything. He hoped Dean was packing with silver bullets.

They followed the vampire into the throng, receiving lascivious looks from vampires and humans alike. The disguises were doing their job. After pushing through the crowd they reached a door that led to some stairs. The stairs went down into what seemed like a dark, dank basement. "You can wait down there, he'll be with you shortly," the vampire insisted.

"I'd rather wait up here, where there are witnesses," Dean said, giving the vamp a smartass grin. The vampire smiled back, before pushing them both down into the basement. They rolled down the stairs. Dean landed on his back at the bottom. Sam rolled down in a heap, landing on top of his brother. "Can't breathe," Dean wheezed. Sam struggled to his feet, before helping Dean up.

He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dark. "That vampire at the door," Sam began, pausing to wince in pain. "She made us. She tipped the bartender off, somehow."

"Ya think?" Dean quipped, sarcastically. "Or maybe Sookie—"

"She's not like that, Dean," Sam repeated. His brother smirked and changed the subject.

"You got heat?" he asked. Sam pulled Ruby's knife from his boot. "That'll do," he smiled. Dean did a weird jive and his pearl handled pistol fell down his pant leg and onto the damp floor.

"I don't even wanna know how you were hiding that in those pants," Sam remarked with a disgusted look on his face.

Dean grimaced in pain as he bent over to pick it up. "I wouldn't touch that if I were you," a thunderous Nordic voice boomed from the top of the stairs. In the blink of an eye, a tall vampire rushed down the stairs and had Dean by the throat. The gun fell from his hands and the vampire kicked it across the floor. He lifted him off his feet. "I don't like hunters in my bar," he stated calmly. "It's bad for business."

Sam lunged forward with Ruby's knife in tow, but the vampire was too fast. He threw Dean across the room before disarming Sam and knocking him on the flat of his back. He stood over the hunter, placing a large foot on his chest. Sam gasped for air. He was being crushed under his weight. "This looks nifty," he said twirling the blade around in his hand. "Where'd you get it?"

"Fuck you," Sam wheezed. A grin tugged at the corner of the vamp's mouth. Sam could tell he was old, practically ancient. He was too strong, too fast. He and Dean never stood a chance. _Dean._ Sam tried to look over at his brother. From what he could see it looked like he was lying in a heap on the floor.

He noticed Sam looking at Dean. "I'd be more worried about yourself, if I were you." He took his foot off of Sam's chest and lifted him off his feet by the throat. "You're a big guy," he noted. The vampire caught Sam's gaze, his icy blue eyes penetrating him to his very core. "Why are you here?" Sam didn't answer. He spat in his face defiantly. The vampire's fangs dropped. Before he had a chance to fight back, they were already deep in his neck. The pain was white hot, but it ended just as soon as it began. The vampire pulled away, spitting out Sam's blood. "What are you?" He dropped Sam on the floor. "What are you?" he repeated louder. Sam tried to crawl toward Dean, who was beginning to come to. The vampire reached him first. He picked Dean up and held him up against the wall by his shoulders. He caught Dean's gaze. "What is he?" he asked Dean.

"He's my brother," Dean answered in a daze.

"Why can't I glamour your brother?"

"Probably because he has demon blood in him."

"Dean, stop it!" Sam shouted as he tried to struggle to his feet. He was still light headed from the blood loss. He searched the floor, trying to find where Dean's gun may have landed.

"No Dean, go on," the vampire urged. Sam didn't know much about glamouring, but from what he heard too much of it wasn't a good thing.

"When Sam was a baby, a demon bled into his mouth and now he has these weirdo demonic powers. The angels say that if he doesn't stop using them—"

"Angels?" the vampire looked at the hunter skeptically.

"Well this one angel, his name's Castiel. He wears a trench coat," Dean continued.

"Let him go!" Sam bellowed. He grabbed his neck, attempting to stop the bleeding and tried once more to stand up.

The vampire finally obliged. He patted Dean's cheek and released him from his influence. Dean slid down the wall and back onto the floor. Sam rushed to his side, but the vampire stopped him. He bit into his own wrist and held it over Sam's mouth. Sam made sure to clamp his mouth shut. "Open up, sweet heart." He pried Sam's mouth open and the cold dead blood flowed into his mouth and down his throat. He tried not to swallow it, but it was no use. He immediately felt the soreness from the fall go away. He checked his neck and it had healed. A tingling sensation pulsed throughout his body, radiating from his manhood. He immediately got a hard on._No. Fuck no, _he thought.

The vamp released him and stood aside so that Sam could help Dean to his feet. He picked his brother up and carried him over his shoulder. "Feel's good doesn't it?" he asked.

"What?" Sam turned around, hoping the vampire wasn't talking about the wood he was trying to conceal in his pants.

"The blood, the power. It's exhilarating isn't it? I'm very old Sam, which means I'm very strong. If I wanted to kill you I would've simply done it. Instead I spared your life, which makes you in my debt."

Sam started up the stairs, trying not to think about what the vampire meant.

"Don't go too far. I'll be calling in a favor sooner than you think," he called after them.

Sam reached the top of the stairs, surprisingly easily and opened the door. He could feel his brother stirring over his shoulder. "Put me down," Dean grunted. Sam set his brother down, but kept a hand on his shoulder as he watched Dean struggle to maintain his balance.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Sam shouted above the music. They made their way through the throng. Dean was still in a daze from being glamoured, but he was walking upright on his own. Sam hoped his brother hadn't witnessed the tall vampire force-feeding him blood. As they made their way to the door they noticed Sookie and Bill entering the club.

"Oh shit," Dean sneered. She recognized them despite their disguises. Dean fixed his hair before heading toward the couple. Sam felt his stomach drop.

"Wait!" He tried reaching for Dean but he was already several steps away from him. He hoped his brother would take a subtle approach, but he knew that wasn't likely. He pushed past several people, following close behind. "Miss Stackhouse," Dean greeted the waitress with an edge of sarcasm. "Fancy seeing you here, right Sam?"

Sam walked up from behind. "Of all the gin joints in all the world," he mused nervously. Apparently his brother wasn't going for subtle tonight. Sookie did seem genuinely surprised to see them there. She was wearing a red and white floral dress. She looked like she belonged at a church picnic instead of a nightclub on the arm of some vampire.

"Agent Plant, Agent Bonham," she greeted them with a nervous smile. "Are you here undercover?" she asked in a stage whisper.

"In a manner of speaking," Dean responded with a smirk, gripping his side in pain. "This must be that very nice vampire you were telling us about, Mr. Compton," Dean remarked, acknowledging the vampire's presence. Sam tried not to notice Bill's arm wrap tightly around Sookie's waist. He couldn't tell if he was being protective or simply displaying that she was his.

The vampire nodded. "We know what you are, hunter. Leave immediately before you get hurt," he threatened.

"Oh we're already hurt, ask your friends," Dean retorted. Sam shot Dean a warning glare. He didn't want to provoke a vamp, especially since they were both unarmed. The club owner had taken the knife and Dean's gun, leaving them defenseless.

"Look we don't wanna start any trouble with either of you," Sookie explained. "We're just trying to find out what happened to Maudette and Dawn. So if you'll excuse us—"

"Please tell me you don't know these two idiots, Bill." The she-vamp appeared behind them, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

"I don't. They were just leaving," he answered casting a glare at the hunters.

"No they're not. Eric's just summoned you," she revealed. "All of you." They watched as the vampire disappeared into the crowd, reappearing moments later atop the stage beside the tall vampire who had attacked them in the basement. He was sitting on a throne in a black suit with long blonde hair.

"Great we were attacked by Fabio," Dean muttered. The vampire lifted his hand and beckoned them to join him on the stage. Bill and Sookie moved towards the stage and the hunters followed suit.

"Bill Compton, it has been a while," the vampire greeted as they reached the platform.

"It has. I've been—"

"Mainstreaming," he interrupted. He stared at Sookie for a moment, making Sam question whether vampires had x-ray vision. "I see that's going well for you."

Sam could see Bill growing nervous. Apparently this Eric was very old and powerful. "Yes, of course. Sorry, Eric this uh… my friend."

"Sookie Stackhouse," Eric interrupted.

Sookie looked baffled. "How do you know my name?"

The she-vamp spoke up. "I never forget a pretty face, you're in my vault," she replied, pointing to her head and staring at the telepath lecherously.

"Great, that's great," Sookie stammered. "It's nice to meet you."

Eric smiled, and Sam couldn't help but notice that it didn't feel warm or inviting. He was menacing, yet incredibly indifferent like a lazy lion on an African savannah. "Well aren't you sweet," he mused.

"Not really," Sookie responded a little too quickly. Sam saw Bill reach for Sookie's hand and clasp it tight. As the tension grew between the vampires, Sam suddenly wondered why he and his brother were there at all. Dean must have been wondering the same thing because at that moment Sam heard his brother clear his throat.

"Since I didn't get a chance to introduce myself in the basement when you were bashing my brains in, I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam. And don't worry my head feels fine." Sam suddenly realized that his brother must've either been really out of it, or just plain crazy.

The she-vamp whispered something into Eric's ear. He lazily turned his attention to the two hunters. "I believe you have been asking about some of my customers," he said looking out into the crowd. "If you have anything to ask you should as it of me," he looked at Sam directly in the eye. "And not under false pretenses."

"Forgive us," Sam began. "We're just trying to find out what happened to these two women." He handed the vampire Dawn and Maudette's photographs.

The vampire took the pictures. "This one offered herself to me, but I found her too pathetic for my intentions." He lingered over Dawn's photograph. "Now this one, I have tasted."

"Do you know if either of these women were on V?"

"As sheriff of Area 5 I do not condone the consumption or distribution of vampire blood. If had known about it believe me I would've handled it."

"Did you?" Dean inquired.

The vampire smiled again. "No, I did not." He looked out into the crowd, seemingly uninterested. "I also do not condone hunting in my area. If you kill a vampire, it is my duty to investigate it. And trust me vampire justice is swift and absolute." Had Sam and his brother been lesser men they would've been petrified under Eric's glare. They both hardened their jaws and returned it, silently throwing daggers with their eyes. It only amused the ancient vampire.

"Well," Sookie interrupted. She grabbed Bill's hand and prepared to walk away. "It was nice meeting the both of you, but—"

"I'm not finished with you, yet" Eric interrupted sternly. "Please, sit," he insisted. Sookie reluctantly released Bill's hand and took a seat in the chair next to him. Eric's eyes remained glued to blonde telepath. "So Bill, are you attached to your new friend?"

"She is mine," he answered. Sam could feel his heart sink. He desperately hoped this was just a lie to protect her from the sheriff.

Sookie hurriedly agreed with Bill. "Yes, I am his."

"Well what a pity for me," Eric mused. Sookie shifted uncomfortably in her seat under his scrutiny. He turned his attention to Bill. "Join us. We have catching up to do, you and I." Bill nodded in agreement.

Sam suddenly noticed a worried look on Sookie's face. _Was she reading someone's mind?_ "We have to get out of here. Eric, the cops are comin'. There's gonna be a raid."

Eric looked at her and the hunters. "Tell me you're not undercover cops."

"I'm not but that man in the hat is." Everyone turned to look at the guy in the trucker cap and fishnet shirt. _Shit_, Sam thought.

"We do nothing illegal here," Eric assured everyone.

"There's a vampire named Tarren in the ladies room with a man. She's feeding on him."

"How do you know this?" the she-vamp inquired suspiciously. Before she could answer the cops arrived.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," Dean shouted. The crowd began to disperse; vampires and humans were running for the exit.

"Follow me," Eric insisted. He led them out of a back exit.


	6. Heart to Heart

**Author's Note:**

I've completed multiple chapters today because I have so much free time on my hands. I start work soon, so don't expect me to update this quickly in the future. I haven't received any reviews yet. :( I really love feedback. Without it I feel like a crazy lady talking to herself. Enjoy!

* * *

Sam quickly closed the tab on his browser when he heard Dean stirring in bed. Dean sat up; his spikey faux-hawk was now leaning to the side. He rubbed his eyes, smearing his eyeliner across his cheek. Sam had to drive the journey home last night. Dean was still out of it after they escaped the nightclub. He must've hit his head pretty hard. When they'd gotten back to the motel in Bon Temps his brother went to straight to bed without bothering to wash the gel out of his hair.

He looked up from his laptop. "How ya feelin'?" Sam asked with a smirk.

"Awesome," Dean mumbled as he struggled to get out of bed. He attempted to run his hands through his hair, but was surprised when he discovered it was matted with gel.

"You hit your head pretty hard last night," Sam began. He absentmindedly scrolled through his e-mails, trying to seem uninterested. "I bet you don't remember a thing." He hoped he wasn't being too obvious. He needed to know whether his brother had seen Eric force him to drink his blood.

Dean stood and went to the mini-fridge to grab a bottle of water. "I remember going down into that basement, and Zoolander throwing me across the room. Then you carried me outta there." He opened the bottle and took a swig. "The bastard still has my gun… and the knife. Fantastic," he said shaking his head before taking another gulp of water. "Did you get any sleep last night?" Dean asked. As usual he was concerned with his brother's well being.

"Yeah a couple of hours," Sam lied. He couldn't sleep a wink. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was that vampire. He tossed and turned for twenty minutes, trying to get the image of Eric kissing and playfully biting his neck out of his head. He finally gave up and spent the night scouring the internet for lore on vampire blood. Apparently drinking V directly from the source created a bond. He would always feel Eric inside of him. This meant the vampire would always know where he was and could sense his emotions. Neither of which were good, especially for a hunter. "Well, Fangtasia was a dead end. Posh and Goth Spice gave us nothing on our two victims. Now it looks like we're back to square one," Sam sighed, trying to change the subject.

Dean was now in the bathroom with the door wide open, attempting to scrub the eyeliner off of his face. He gave up and threw the washcloth into the sink. "Why won't this shit come off?"

"You need some make-up remover," Sam suggested with a smile. Dean stuck his head out of the door and tossed a glare at his brother before entering the room to look for a clean set of clothes.

"Wait," he said looking up from his duffle bag. "Jason, Jason Stackhouse, he mentioned something about a vampire in a videotape. He's probably our guy."

"What tape?" Sam asked.

Dean walked over to the table and looked through several files trying to find the police report. "There's another sex tape, with Maudette Pickins and a vampire. Jason claims she showed it to him."

"Well did you get a description?" Sam probed.

"No, before he could answer Tina, wait no Tara, she came in to give him an alibi. Which was clearly bullshit." Dean handed his brother Jason's statement, pointing out the part where Jason revealed information about the tape.

"You go talk to him, there's something I have to do," Sam insisted, skimming the report. He tossed the file onto the table and looked up, surprised to see his brother staring back at him.

"Yeah, and what's that?" Dean asked, folding his arms.

"It's nothing there's just someone I need to talk to."

Dean sighed. His face had become solemn. "Why are you doin' this to yourself, Sam?"

"Doing what?" Sam asked defensively.

"The girl," he answered. He took a seat at the table across from his brother. "I saw the way you looked at her last night, y'know and I get it—"

"Get what?"

Dean looked at his brother for a moment, before shaking his head and standing to his feet. "Nothing, never mind. Forget I brought it up." Sam cursed himself for being short with his brother, especially when he was clearly trying to reach out and help. He wasn't quite sure what he was feeling for the waitress, but he knew that he had to talk to her again.

* * *

It was a particularly slow afternoon at Merlotte's. Tara restocked the liquor, while Sam was busy looking through receipts behind the bar. Sookie brought out Andy and Sheriff Dearborne's burgers before filling the ketchup bottles over at the bar. Last night left her a little frazzled. She had never seen Bill act so menacing. She recalled him glamouring the state policeman that pulled them over as they were driving back from Shreveport. His eyes were so cold and fierce. She was torn between fear and an inexplicable lust for Bill Compton. Whatever this feeling was, she convinced herself that she wasn't going to see him again.

And then there was the hunter, Sam or Agent Plant or whatever his name was. Although he looked ridiculous last night she couldn't deny the physical reaction she felt at the sight of his taut chest and biceps in that t-shirt. _Boy could he wear a pair of pleather pants_, she thought. Sookie shook the salacious thought away. She was becoming no better than the idiots who drooled over her body while she was serving up burgers and fries. As she resumed filling up the ketchup bottles a familiar voice came from behind her.

"Miss Stackhouse," Sam uttered politely. She turned around quickly, and instantly felt the blood rushing to her face. Why was she acting like such a fool around this man? Bill warned her that he was dangerous, that he wanted her dead. But something in his eyes told her differently. _Stop it. He lied to you; don't give him the time of day._Sookie walked past him carting an armload of ketchup bottles and started placing them one by one on the tables. "Here let me help you," he volunteered.

He gently grabbed a few of the bottles from her arms, barely grazing her skin. The physical contact, though small, sent a silent shiver down her spine, and to her center. She mumbled a curse under her breath; frustrated that Bill's blood was turning her into some mewling backstreet hussy. She caught herself watching him as he leaned over to place a ketchup bottle on a table. His jeans were particularly snug today. "What do you want?" she asked, resuming her work and trying to look uninterested in his presence.

Sam straightened up and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. "Just to talk, if you're not too busy." Sookie nodded and led him to a booth on the far end of the restaurant. She saw Sam, her boss, cast a glare at the back of his head as they settled into their seats. "Look, you have every right to be afraid of me, I get it. But my brother and I, we really are just trying to help."

Sookie attempted to listen to Sam's thoughts. Again they were muffled by some sort of haze. "You were listening when I went outside to talk to Bill, weren't you?"

"Yes, but only because I wanted to make sure you were safe. Believe I know it sounds insane, but…" his voice trailed off. He seemed unsure as to whether he should continue.

"What?" she asked, urging him to finish.

He looked down at the table. "I know I should probably stay away from you. When I get close to people they get hurt. But for some reason, I don't know, it's like I'm drawn to you. Y'know? Like, like we're connected." He looked up at her, and for the first time since they'd met, Sookie caught a glimpse of the color of his eyes. They were blue with flecks of green and gold. She must've been staring. "You think I'm crazy." It was a statement rather than a question.

"People been callin' me crazy all my life, on account of what I can do. Maybe we have that in common." He smiled, revealing a perfect set of dimples. "I can't read your thoughts as clearly as other people's. It's like there's static. Makes it hard for me to understand." She noticed his smile fading. "I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," she insisted.

"I could never feel uncomfortable around you," he replied. He looked her directly in the eye, and for a moment Sookie couldn't tell if he was a either a fantastic liar as Bill described, or just a young boy hiding behind a man's eyes. "I always have to lie about who I am. With you, you can just see right through it. Makes me feel like I'm not the only freak in the world."

"What do you mean?" She secretly hoped that he was a telepath, too.

"I used to have these visions, more like premonitions of people dying."

Sookie reached across the table and gently took his large hands into hers. "I'm so sorry. That must've been awful." She couldn't imagine having to watch people die over and over again. No wonder Sam was so tormented. She looked down at their hands. Hers small and slender while his were large and firm. There was a callous on the index finger of his right hand. Sookie recognized the mark, growing up in the south, being around rednecks who fully embraced their second amendment right. It was a sign of firing a weapon often. "You don't have these visions anymore?"

Sam shook his head.

She looked into his eyes and for a moment, Sam looked more like a boy than a man hardened by years of hunting supernatural creatures. Finally she released his hand. Bill was wrong about Sam. He didn't seem hateful or murderous. "Would you like to go to the DGD meeting with me tonight?" She felt the question leave her lips before she even had time to think about it.

He raised an eyebrow. "The what?"

"The Descendents of the Glorious Dead. My gran, she's been planning it all week, and I think it would nice if—"

"I'd love to," he blurted out a little too quickly. They both smiled at each other nervously. Again, Sookie caught a glimpse of his dimples, and the sight of them made her face burn hot. "Well then, I'll see you tonight. It starts at seven." She looked up from the table and was surprised to see Dean standing at the bar talking to Tara. Sam looked over his shoulder to see what Sookie was staring at. It appeared he was failing miserably. "Tara's a tough nut to crack," Sookie mused smiling.

"I can see that," he laughed. "But my brother doesn't give up easy." Their eyes met again, and they both looked away. _So they were brothers._ She suddenly noticed that everyone in the bar was looking at the two of them.

"I'll bring her along. You can bring your brother," she insisted with a nervous smile.

"Sounds great," Sam replied. Sookie got up from the table and walked over to bar. She placed a bottle of ketchup in front of Detective Bellefleur.

"Love is in the air, huh," he scoffed.

Sookie paused with a confused look on her face, "Uh… I guess."

"Even that brother of yours," he started popping a French fry in his mouth. "He gettin' serious with Tara?" the detective probed.

Sookie was still a little confused, "Tara who? You mean 'Tara,' Tara?" She motioned in Tara's direction. She was still at the bar talking to Dean.

"Oh, I thought you knew," Andy feigned surprise.

"If there was any truth to it I would," Sookie laughed. She folded her arms, and listened in on the detective's thoughts.

_See there you go right there. Tara ain't bangin' Stackhouse. The bitch lied to me._

"You watch your mouth," Sookie interrupted.

"I didn't say anything," the detective looked around confused.

"Lemme get you a refill on that tea," Sookie said grabbing the detective's cup and starting for the bar. "I need a sweet tea," she said setting the cup down in front of Sam. "Tara we need to talk." She grabbed her friend's hand and headed for the ladies' room.

When they reached the restroom, Sookie quickly closed the door behind her.

"Why are you going out with a fed, Sook?" Tara inquired. Sookie rolled her eyes. Word travelled too fast in this bar.

"Alls I did was ask him to the DGD meeting tonight," she explained. Tara rolled her eyes and looked at Sookie incredulously. "It's in a church for crying out loud," she argued. "And why shouldn't I? He's nice, and he's not a vampire, and why do I have to justify this to you? You're the one flirting at the bar with his brother." _Shit,_ she thought to herself.

"Brother?" Tara repeated. "He said they were partners?"

"Yeah about that," Sookie paused, cursing herself for letting it slip. "If I tell you this you have got to keep quiet about it." Tara nodded her head, leaning in closer. "They're not actually FBI. They're hunters."

Tara stood back. "Hunters?"

"They hunt all kinds of supernatural stuff, like vampires. They came here thinking it was a vampire that killed Dawn and Maudette.

"So they can kill vampires? _Humans_ can kill vampires?" Sookie nodded her head. "Well fuck me," Tara breathed, sitting down on the toilet.

"Why does Andy think you're seeing my brother?"

Tara looked around apprehensively. "I went down to the station and gave Jason an alibi."

"You lied to the cops, Tara?"

"He's innocent, Sook. And you know it," she said standing up. "You would've done the same for Bill or Agent Plant or whatever his name is." Tara stormed out of the bathroom, and back to the bar. Sookie loved Tara, but at times she hated her attitude. She left the ladies' room and grabbed Andy's tea from the bar. Yes, she was going to cover Tara's ass, again. What were friends for?

"Now that you mention it, Tara and Jason have been sneaking around lately," she said, setting the cup down.

_She must think I'm an idiot. Like I don't know she's covering for him too. Shit, don't look her in the eye._ He turned his head and kept his eyes forward.

"If you're gonna accuse me of lying the least you could do is be a man and say it out loud. I'm gonna hear you, whether you look me in the eye or not." She placed her hands on her hips, "I know you're graspin' at straws, but don't drag my brother down with you."

She turned around, her ponytail bouncing as she walked away. She noticed that Dean was no longer at the bar, and that Sam wasn't at the table. She resumed prepping the napkins and utensils at the bar.

"Oh and by the way Tara," she leaned in whispering. "I'm gonna need you to come with me to the DGD meeting. He's bringing his brother and—"

"Fine Sook, I'll go," she said rolling her eyes. "Nothing like sittin' around a bunch of old white folks listenin' to a vampire reminisce about slavery and the good ol' days," she remarked placing a bottle on a shelf.

* * *

"So she asked you out?" Dean asked for the third time as they sped down the parish road, heading back to the motel.

Sam avoided the question again. "What did her brother tell you about the vamp in the video?"

Dean smiled knowingly at his little brother, happy to get under his skin. He decided to let Sam off the hook and answer his question. "I didn't get much outta the poor guy. I mean his night made ours look like a cake walk."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say you don't have to worry about me ever trying V… ever," Dean shuddered. "He did manage to describe the vampire. Tall, bald, with a skeleton tattoo from the crown of his head all the way down his back."

"Well that shouldn't be too hard to miss," Sam mused.

"Yeah well, the thing is I've already asked around, and no one's seen this vamp. Not even any of Maudette's friends. I tried calling Fangtasia and the very lovely Ginger gave me jack squat. She's been glamoured so much I'm surprised she even knew her own name."

"Did you ask about the knife?"

"Of course I asked about the knife _and _my gun. The bitch started screaming in my ear then she hung up the phone."

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. He waited for a moment, letting a tense silence fill the car before speaking. "She did ask me out," he admitted quietly. He looked at his brother with a lost desperation in his eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, Dean was always better with women. He didn't know why he said yes. Every fiber in his being told him to stay away from Sookie Stackhouse, but he couldn't. All the women he had ever been with were either dead or in Ruby's case undead.

Dean cast a sympathetic glance over at his brother, understanding Sam's fear of hurting the women he cared about. "Look, we'll be in and out of town before you know it. We're drifters Sam, that's what we do. You'll be out of her life in the next couple of days and hunting something else two states over." Sam understood that this was his brother's way of comforting him, but it didn't work. Although he desperately wanted to be out of Sookie's life for her own safety, something at his very center pulled him closer to her. Was it simply curiosity or lust?

"She's bringing Tara with her," Sam said, trying to think about something else. Although he was looking out of the window, he could feel his brother smiling from ear to ear. Sam tried not to think about why.


	7. Sam's Evening Out with Your Girlfriend

**Author's Notes:**

I don't have much to say about this chapter other than THEY GON' FUCK.

* * *

"That fanger put on quite the show, huh?" Dean mused as they stepped outside the church. The Descendents of the Glorious Dead meeting was over and the brothers were waiting outside as their respective dates were inside socializing.

"Yeah, you could say that," Sam responded absently. He still couldn't believe he'd worked up the courage to agree to a date. What was he thinking? Did Northman's blood make him crazy? She'd only end up hurt in the end, or worse. With all the things Sam had done, and the things he was still doing, he knew he didn't deserve a woman like Sookie. Yet, there was still this feeling that they were connected, and that in some way she could redeem him.

"So where are you taking Sookie?" Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Out for coffee," Sam answered, turning around to face his brother.

"Yeah that's great, Sammy. Freakin' delightful," Dean mused sarcastically.

"Funny," Sam retorted. "Let me guess you and Tara are going back to the motel room?"

"Nah, she's gotta finish her shift at the bar, but afterwards..." Dean raised his eyebrows lasciviously.

"Wait, she's taking you to work?" He chuckled.

"Hey the way I see it, it's kinda like foreplay. She serves me beer all night and then afterwards I get to serve her. Know what I mean?"

"I wish I didn't." Sam said, trying to blot out the image.

"Think about it, Sam. I just got out of hell. I don't have any of my old scars or dislocated fingers. I mean my hide is as smooth as a baby's ass. So as far as I'm concerned, my virginity is in tact."

"What? Not even the hosts of heaven could pull a feat like that," Sam joked.

"Brother, I have been re-hymenated," Dean asserted, patting Sam on the back.

"Y'all ready?" Sookie's sweet voice caused them both to turn around. She was coming down the steps of the church arm in arm with Tara. Her beautiful blonde hair was down, cascading down her back in lovely loose curls. She wore a purple floral dress that mirrored her sweet demeanor. "So where to?" she asked.

"I have to get back to the bar," Tara answered.

"I'll be more than happy to give you a ride," Dean replied with a wink.

"Whatever," she shrugged, nonchalantly. "Be careful, Sook." She shot Sam a glare before following Dean to the Impala.

"She means well," Sookie assured Sam once the two were well out of earshot. "She just worries about me sometimes."

"With good reason," Sam replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's going to eat my brother alive isn't she?"

"Definitely," she smiled. They walked towards her small yellow subcompact. Sookie giggled at Sam as he folded his long body into the front passenger seat. They drove to a small coffee shop in the town's shopping center. Sam ordered a non-fat latte while she ordered a small regular coffee with a slice of pie. They sat across from each other, sipping their coffee and talking about Louisiana weather and music. All the while Sam couldn't stop thinking about how she reminded him so much of Jessica.

"Who's Jessica?" she asked in between bites of her pie. "Sorry, it's a name that keeps poppin' up in all the static and I kinda have trouble controllin' it after a long day. You thought about her before at Merlotte's."

Sam waited a moment before answering. "She was my girlfriend. She died a few years ago."

Sookie placed her small hand on his. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's alright," Sam assured her. "It feels like it was a lifetime ago. I wasn't the same person that I am now." And he wasn't. After Dean died and went to hell, he couldn't be the same Sam. He had to change, survive and adapt. The things he had to do to fight this fight would make this girl run for the hills. But he convinced himself he was doing it for the right reasons. He was saving people, and at the end of the day, the end would justify the means.

"So how did you and your brother get into all this stuff, anyway?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Are you sure you really want to know?" No one had been so interested in his life before. Normally when people found out what he and his brother did they were repulsed. She nodded, taking another bite of her pie. "When I was little, my mom was killed in a fire. My dad spent our entire lives trying to hunt down the thing that did it. He raised me and my brother in the life. Taught us everything we know."

"That's terrible," she put down her fork, concerned. "What ever happened to your father?"

"Murdered by the demon that killed mom," he sighed.

"Well, my mouth ought to be shaped like my foot by now," she said. "I keep bringing up all these horrible memories for you." She tucked her hair behind her ear, nervously.

"It's okay, I swear. You didn't know," he assured her. "I read an article about what happened to your family. I'm so sorry."

"My parents died in a flash flood when I was eight. My Gran took care of me and my brother, Jason, ever since."

"Are you and your brother close?" he asked, taking another sip of his latte.

"As close you as you and your brother? Not really. But we try to be there for each other when it counts."

He stared at her for a moment, watching her eat another bite of her pie. Her big brown eyes closed as she savored it. He laughed. "What's so funny?" she asked, opening her eyes.

"Nothing you just remind me of someone," he said smiling. "Did your parents know about what you can do?" he asked, changing the subject.

"My mother did. It scared her at first, but she did what she could to protect me. What about you? Dean know about your premonitions?"

"Yeah, I kept them from him as long as I could," he sighed. He wrestled with the idea of asking her about her abilities, and where they might've come from. Perhaps if she was one of Azazel's special children, it would explain these deep feelings he had for her.

"What is it?" she asked.

He took a deep breath before answering. "It's just, my abilities started when I was about twenty-three. At first I had these nightmares of people dying and then they started happening when I was awake. It wasn't just me, there were others. Children who had these abilites."

"You're worried that I'm like you?" Sam nodded. "I was born like this, Sam. I've been hearing other people's thoughts for as long as I can remember." This wasn't enough to calm his fears.

"Have you ever seen a man in your dreams with yellow eyes?" he asked.

Her brow furrowed at the question. She looked away as if she was trying to remember. "No, no not that I can recall." She looked at him. "Are you alright, Sam?"

Sam smiled nervously. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

She returned his smile. "Here, you have a bite," she offered him the fork.

"No, you're enjoying it, I didn't want to interrupt," he teased.

"Oh come on, I've been a pig. Just take the last bite."

"How 'bout we split it?" He took the fork and cut the last morsel in half and took a bite. He placed the fork on the plate and slid it towards her. She took the final bite, and smiled.

"Mmmm…" she rolled her eyes back in her head. He laughed again. This time she laughed too.

As they made their way back to her car, she grabbed his hand interlocking their fingers. The gesture was sweet and for a moment he forgot he was a hunter. He was just Sam. All of his life he had never had an opportunity to be _just Sam._ Even when he'd gone to Stanford, he didn't feel normal or like he belonged. Sookie changed all that. She was just as much of a freak as he was. Somehow that made him feel normal.

When they arrived at her car, an overwhelming desire compelled him to kiss her. He leaned over and pressed his lips against hers. She backed up against the side of the car and stood on the tips of her toes. He coaxed her lips open with his tongue, and when she yielded he could taste the sweetness of the pie. She moaned, and the sound sent a chill down his spine, making him hungrier. His hands found her hair writhing and twisting in her long golden locks. His libido skyrocketed, and suddenly his jeans became a little too snug. He pulled away quickly, fearing she might have felt his desire for her. He couldn't tell if it was the vampire blood, or if it was just… her.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. He turned away from her, thinking about anything to help his erection go down. After taking a couple of deep breaths he turned to face her. Her lips were a little swollen and pink from the kiss. That definitely didn't help.

"It's alright," she whispered, grabbing his hand.

"I don't know if this is such a good idea," he confessed. He was at war with Lilith and demons, and falling for another beautiful blonde would be disastrous. "Whenever I get close to someone, they end up," his voice trailed off. He didn't know how to finish the sentence.

She placed a finger on his lips, to shush him. She then stood on her toes, giving him a tender kiss on the cheek. "It's alright," she repeated. "I understand."

Was she reading his mind even now? Could she see the pain, the anger that festered underneath the surface? He searched her eyes for an answer.

"Look, I'm not going to lie to you, I'm a little confused and worried myself. I can't just go from kissin' one guy to the next like this," she said shaking her head.

Sam thought for a moment. Who was she talking about? The vampire? "You kissed the vampire?"

"Yeah, what's it to you?" she asked, getting defensive.

Who was he to judge? He'd had sex with a werewolf and a demon. "Nothing, I was just a little confused," he said waving his hand.

"I really do like you, Sam. It's just a little fast. I mean I barely know you." She was right. They just met yesterday… at a crime scene. He was surprised she asked him to go on a date. _Was it a date?_ She walked around to the driver's side of the car. "Should I drop you off at the motel then?"

"No, my brother's probably there with Tara," Sam replied, getting into the car.

"Well you can come over for a bit, maybe watch a movie?" she suggested, starting the car.

"Sounds great, thanks." He was a little embarrassed for kissing her like he did, but she did kiss him back. There was an undeniable attraction between the two of them. But they both understood that they were better off as friends.

* * *

"Last call," Tara teased as she placed another beer in front of Dean. It took a while, but he was growing on her. She smiled at him as she started wiping the bar down. She reminded him so much of Cassie, beautiful, intelligent, and ferocious. Cassie was the only woman that didn't put up with Dean's lies. She saw right through his façade. Tara was the same way.

It was closing time, and Dean decided to stick around while Tara finished cleaning up and completing her prep work. Sam Merlotte came from out of his office and when he noticed Dean was still sitting at the bar talking to Tara he frowned. "Hey, we're closing," he said angrily.

"Calm down Sam. He's with me. We'll be outta here as soon as I'm finished," Tara said as she cleaned a shot glass.

Sam glared at Dean, then headed towards the back, "Don't forget to lock up," he reminded her.

Dean smiled, "I don't think your boss likes me." He took a swig of his beer.

"Hell I barely like you," she said giving him a flirtatious grin.

"Well I get that a lot," he admitted.

"Maybe if you didn't lie to people all the time…" she looked up from her work.

"Hey it's part of the job," he said pointing a finger at her.

"And what is that exactly?" she probed, grabbing his beer and taking a swig. She'd been asking questions like this all night. Now that they were the only ones in the bar, and he had more than a few beers in him, he decided to tell her the truth.

"I help people," he admitted.

"How? By lying about being a federal agent?" He gave her a surprised look. "Sookie told me you weren't a fed. And that tall sum bitch was your brother."

He laughed, "What else did she tell you?"

"That you know how to kill vampires," she said as she put a few glasses on the shelf. "So, do you?"

"That I do," he took another gulp.

"How?"

"Well there's the stake to the heart. Decapitation. Oh, and silver doesn't kill them, but it sure as hell slows them down."

"Ya don't say," she walked from behind the bar, removing her apron. "You ready to get outta here?"

"Absolutely." He headed out the door waiting as she turned off all the lights and locked the place up.

"Your place?" Dean asked as they walked to the Impala.

"No. Hell no," she replied. "Don't you have a motel room?" Dean shrugged at the thought. He wanted to find some place a little nicer, but if she was okay with motel sex then so was he.

When they arrived in the motel room he pulled a bottle of Jack Daniel's from the mini fridge. "How 'bout a night cap?"

"I'm the adult child of an alcoholic. I'm gonna need about three," she replied. He poured her a drink and handed her the glass. She walked over to the nearest bed and sat down. "So is this what you and your brother do? Travel around, living in cheap motels, killing vampires?"

"And ghosts, and demons, and monsters," he answered pouring himself a drink.

"Sounds… terrible," she smiled, downing her drink in one gulp and handing him the glass. He poured her another drink.

"I used to think so," he said handing her the glass. He sat down beside her. "But recently I had this… near death experience you might say." He paused, "very near actually. And since then I started thinking maybe this job, this life, is… I don't know, sort of like a mission from God." He took a sip.

"So… does that make you some sort of monk or somethin'?" He gave her a confused look. "You know, celibate?"

"No, no, no. God no," Dean answered, grinning.

"Good, 'cause I haven't had sex in about eight months." Dean was shocked. A knockout like Tara, he couldn't believe it.

"No way," he said incredulously, setting his drink down on the nightstand.

"I'm sorry, but have you seen the selection of eligible men in this town? I'd rather hold out in a dry spell then just let anyone hit it and quit it," she laughed. He loved the sound of her laugh.

"I'd be honored," he said, placing a hand on his chest. She downed her drink and set the glass on the nightstand.

She leaned back on the bed, resting on her elbows. He watched her take her hair tie out, allowing her braids to fall onto her shoulders. She blinked lazily, her big brown eyes laced with thick dark eyelashes. Dean stood up and walked to the foot of the bed, shrugging off his flannel shirt and tossing it aside. "Lights off," she insisted. _Oh so she was shy,_ Dean thought as he walked over to the light switch near the door, flipping it. How could a woman with so much strength, so much sass be so vulnerable? So insecure? She captivated him. He yearned to know every detail of her life. Tonight he'd just have to settle for every detail of that beautiful ebony skin.

He walked over to the bed, yanking off his shirt before crawling on top of her, propping her legs open with his knees. He kissed her neck gently tracing her jaw line with his tongue before devouring her mouth. She leaned back, allowing a moan to escape against his lips. Dean took the opportunity to explore her mouth with his tongue, tasting and savoring her. Her hands grasped the nape of his neck, pulling at his short hair.

She pulled away, rolling over and straddling him. Dean licked his lips as she removed her tank top and tossed it in his face. When he'd removed the garment, he could see that she was dangling her bra with one hand and covering her breasts with the other. "What happened there?" she asked looking at his shoulder. Of course she was referring to Cas' handprint that was burned into his skin. It was the first time he'd been shirtless in front of a woman since it happened. He didn't want to kill the mood with the ugly truth so he casually shrugged.

"Oh you mean this," he said glancing at his shoulder, "comes with the job," he said caressing her smooth thighs.

"Does it hurt?" she asked tossing the bra aside, still covering her chest.

"Not anymore," he sat up, wrapping his arms around her and placing a kiss on her lips. He flipped her over and began tugging her shorts, pulling them down her legs slowly. When they were off, she backed up against the headboard, grinning flirtatiously. Dean rested on his knees, looking down at her. Her beautiful brown skin shined. The glow from a street lamp outside the blinded window cast streaks of light across her body. He leaned over, kissing her lips then moving down to her neck, shoulders. He lingered on her breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth biting down playfully before suckling. Then he lavished the other one with his attentions, kissing and suckling. Her breathing became more erratic, and she writhed underneath him, arching her back, pushing her breasts into his face. He licked his way down her torso, pausing when he reached her center.

She was still wearing her panties, which were a light purple, almost lilac. The color looked beautiful against her chocolate skin. He pulled them off gently, before tossing them aside. He kissed the inside of her right thigh, then the left. She let out another moan, grasping the comforter of the bed. She was already wet, he noted, spreading her lips gently with his thumb and index finger. He leaned in closer, finding her pearl before licking it and sucking it. Her hands let go of the sheets, and went right for his head. She ran her fingers through his hair, moving her hips in rhythm with his tongue. His hands grasped her thighs as he savored her.

He pulled back for a moment to catch his breath and she whimpered, pleading for him to continue. He rubbed her clit with his thumb, "Oh FUCK!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. He leaned in and kept licking as he inserted one finger. "More," she gasped. He obliged, taking his finger out gently before inserting his middle and index finger. He curled them upward, searching for her sweet spot while licking and savoring the sweet taste of her center. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't!" she screamed, backing away from him. Dean grabbed her thigh with his other hand and pulled her closer.

"Don't run," he whispered, before returning to his work. He could feel her legs trembling. She reached for the nightstand, the pillows, hell, anything she could get her hands on. Dean could feel her walls tightening around his fingers, and could tell she was close to her climax. He kept up the pace, stimulating her with his tongue. Finally she gave in, careening over the edge. "Oh my God," she grunted.

"Just call me Dean," he teased, kissing his way up to her lips. She relished her taste on his lips, kissing him hungrily. Dean prided himself on being a giver in bed. Pleasing her turned him on. His jeans were already snug, almost painfully so. She rolled over on top of him.

"Fuck I want you so bad," she moaned, grinding up against his bulge. She fumbled with his zipper and tugged his pants and boxer briefs down to his ankles. Dean was standing at attention for her. "God damn," she marveled at his size before taking him into her mouth. Dean hissed at the sensation of her warm mouth engulfing his manhood. He folded his arms behind his head as he wondered at her handiwork. She pumped his shaft vigorously as she bobbed up and down on the head. "Fuck," he growled, his eyes rolling back in his head. He didn't want to cum like this. "I want to be inside you," he hissed. He almost regretted making her stop, but if she would've kept going she would've made him arrive early.

She straddled his hips, gently lowering herself onto his member. She was so tight, and warm. She rolled her hips steadily, arching her back and displaying those perfect breasts. Her breaths became shallow, as she quickened the pace, undulating her body in rhythm with his thrusts. She moaned, grabbing her breast and squeezing her nipple. Dean reached down between them and began stroking her clit. Her walls tightened around him. She was close to climaxing again.

Dean thrust harder inside of her. She leaned over to kiss him, giving him ample control of the pace. He kissed her hungrily, moving his hips faster and faster. He was so close. He sat up, lifting her on top of him. She tore her mouth away from his, "Holy shit," she grunted, finding her second orgasm. The feel of her walls contracting around him sent him over the edge as she shot his load inside of her. The both collapsed onto the bed, physically spent, panting. He wrapped an arm around her, and kissed her forehead.

"What's this?' she asked, still panting. He looked down to see her pointing at the tattoo on his chest.

"Anti-possession sigil," he replied, stroking her hair.

"Possession as in demons?" she asked, smiling into his chest.

"Yeah," he answered, closing his eyes.

"You know when vampires came out of the coffin, it made me wonder what else was out there," she said rubbing his chest.

"You'd be surprised," he mumbled.

"And you knew about all this stuff and chose to help people," she said smiling up at him.

"Someone has to," he grinned, kissing her on the nose. She snuggled closer to him and closed her eyes. "Tara?" She was already asleep. He chuckled when he realized he was still wearing his boots, and his pants were around his ankles. He didn't want to wake her, so he closed his eyes, too.

* * *

**Footnote: **Which they did you think I was talking about? Trolol


	8. I'm Here For Sookie

**Author's Note:**

I am so sorry. I know I haven't updated in like months. Or at least it feels like it's been months. I haven't forgotten about this story. I have a tendency to write in spurts whenever I get free time or feel inspired. Tell me what you think of this chapter, as it is a lot different from the original.

* * *

Sookie pulled into her gravel driveway and shut off the engine. "This is it," she announced as she took off her seat belt and hopped out of the car. She watched Sam unfold his long body, trying not to linger too long on the sight of his tall athletic physique. The kiss they shared minutes ago had left her feeling weak with lust. She started to wonder if inviting him over this late was a good idea. She hoped Gran would still be awake to help dissipate some of the lingering sexual tension.

"It's nice," Sam acknowledged as he closed the car door and followed Sookie around to the side entrance of the house. Sookie could feel her hands trembling as she fumbled with her keys. _Why are you acting like this? It was just a kiss,_ she told herself. She took a deep breath and unlocked the door. The lights were off, which meant Gran was already in bed. _Shit._

She heard Sam trip over Gran's garden clogs that she kept by the door. "Sorry, the light switch is around here somewhere, " she insisted as she scanned the dark kitchen searching for the switch. She slipped and nearly fell in something slippery, but Sam caught her. "Thanks," she breathed, suddenly grateful that she had decided to invite him inside. She felt along the kitchen wall and finally found the switch. The overhead light flickered on. She looked down to see what it was she had stepped in.

"Sookie don't look!" Sam bellowed. It was too late. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. There, lying on the kitchen floor was her grandmother in a pool of blood.

Sam lunged for Sookie, spun her around and tried to shield her from the gruesome sight, but he knew he was already too late. He could feel her body go limp, and he feared that she was about to faint. He looked down at her. She was still conscious. "Sookie," he shook her gently, attempting to snap her out of it. She didn't say a word, she didn't even respond. She just stared right through him, as if she could see her grandmother's body behind him.

Sam heard a noise coming from the living room. He reached behind his back for his pistol with one hand and held Sookie steady with the other. "Can you stand on your own?" he asked quietly. Her eyes were vacant. She was obviously in shock. He turned off the safety and aimed it for the doorway to the living room. The killer was still in the house. He heard his footsteps coming toward the kitchen.

"Bill," Sookie whispered. It was the first thing she had uttered. Just as she did the vampire appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He looked down at the grisly scene before rushing to Sookie.

She left Sam's side and closed the distance between herself and the vampire. Sam reluctantly lowered his weapon and pulled out his cell phone to dial 911. Even though Sookie seemed to trust the intruder, he couldn't help but wonder why he was even in her house to begin with.

* * *

Dean awoke to the sound of his phone vibrating off of the nightstand and falling to the floor. The street lamp from outside shone through the blinds, still casting faint streaks of light into the room. When he rolled onto his side, he'd noticed that Tara had already gone. She had also removed his boots and his pants from around his ankles. He reached for his phone, fumbling around in the darkness until he finally felt it vibrating in his hands. It was Sam. "Yeah," he answered, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed.

"Dude, where the hell have you been? I called you like seven times in the last two hours." Sam sounded a little more high-strung than usual.

"I got in late with Tara," he yawned, holding the phone between his head and his shoulder as he put on a pair of boxer briefs. He looked at the clock radio on the nightstand, which read 2:34 in bright red numbers. He was a little annoyed that she hadn't bothered to stay until morning.

"There's been another murder," Sam continued, ignoring his brother's answer. "We found Sookie's grandmother dead in her kitchen around midnight. She'd been stabbed at least twenty times."

"Son of a bitch," he whispered. Dean got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. "Give me twenty minutes," he said before flipping his phone shut.

Several minutes later, Dean pulled the Impala into Sookie's gravel driveway behind a slew of patrol cars and an ambulance. "They bring out the whole friggin' squad for one dead body," he mumbled under his breath as he shut off the engine. Inside, Sookie was sitting on her living room sofa, a blanket covering her shoulders. Her eyes remained fixed on the kitchen doorway, as the bumbling sheriff and several deputies tried to make sense of what transpired.

"Where's Sam?" he asked, trying to sound sympathetic. She didn't answer him, she didn't even acknowledge his presence. She appeared to be in a daze. She must have been in shock. Dean snapped, and instantly regretted it because the poor girl jumped with a start.

"I-I'm sorry," she replied, her voice shaking. "What?"

"Where's Sam?" he repeated apologetically. Sookie nodded towards the kitchen. He silently thanked her with a nod and headed into the kitchen. Sam stood at the opposite end of the room, right in front of the body, talking to the coroner. The poor old woman was in bad shape. Her blood stained the floor, the walls, and the counter.

Sam ended his exchange with the coroner when he noticed his brother enter the room. "Mayberry PD, makin' heads or tails of any of this?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "Detective Bellefleur seems to think it was Jason, a couple deputies say it was Bill Compton—"

"This doesn't look like a vampire's M.O. I mean, there was a serious struggle here. She fought hard. It wouldn't surprise me if the killer walked away with a few cuts of his own. And no way an old woman can go toe to toe with a vampire. Not like this."

"Yeah that, and there's no way a vampire, other than Bill Compton, could've gotten in here. He was the only one with an invitation. Not unless a vamp glamoured their way in, and if that was the case a glamoured human wouldn't have struggled this hard." Dean watched his brother's face as he examined the scene. There was still a trace of doubt.

"But…" he urged Sam to continue.

"But, it's just… it's weird. It was like Bill was here a little too fast, y'know?" he revealed. "There's just something wrong about him. I don't know what it is…"

"You think he did it?" Dean asked. "He seems a little sweet on Sookie. Why would he kill her grandmother?" he remarked skeptically.

Sam nodded. "You're right. I'm, I'm gonna check on Sookie," he stammered. Dean watched as his brother exited the kitchen and knelt down in front of Sookie, who was still seated on the sofa. He watched Sam try to comfort her, and couldn't help but feel that coming to Bon Temps was a bad idea.

"Agent Bonham," the sheriff called Dean over. Dean shrugged off the ominous feeling and obliged the sheriff.

* * *

Sam walked over to Sookie. She looked so small and fragile, sitting on the couch, shrouded in an old quilted throw blanket. He imagined that it was something her gran had sewn for her as a child. He suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. Perhaps if he hadn't agreed to go out with Sookie this wouldn't have happened. _You break everything you touch, Sam. What did you expect?_

He knelt down in front of her and placed a hand on her bare knee. "Sookie, Sookie…" she didn't respond. She simply sat there, staring at the men in her kitchen as they circled her grandmother's body. This wasn't good. She could probably hear every thought going through their minds. He moved his hand to her shoulder. "Sookie," he whispered gently. She tore her eyes away from the kitchen and looked up at him. "Maybe you should go lay down."

"I could use a little air," she mustered as she stood up. Sam helped her outside onto the porch, where she took a seat on the steps. He sat beside her and watched as she stared up at the stars. She hadn't cried, hadn't shed one tear. Sam couldn't tell if it was strength or shock.

They both sat quietly for a moment, listening to the sounds of the crickets and frogs singing to the night air. "I'm so sorry, Sookie."

"Do you think you could apologize to me some other time?" she snapped. She was right to be angry. It was a stupid thing to say. After all the times Sam had encountered grieving families, he figured he should've been a pro at counseling the bereaved. He was at a loss for words.

Sam grabbed her hand, reveling in its warmth and softness. "If there's anything you need—"

"I know," she interrupted, pulling her hand away. "What happened to Bill?" she asked.

Sam tried not to take her callousness to heart. He was a stranger to her after all. A stranger who not even a couple of hours ago shoved his tongue down her throat in a parking lot. "I'll go get him." As he stood to walk back inside she called his name. He turned around and could see that her hardened demeanor had softened.

"Can you try callin' my brother, again?" Sam nodded. "Thank you," she replied apologetically.

Sam closed the screen door behind him and pulled out his cell phone to call Jason Stackhouse. This time it went straight to voicemail. He left another message, opting to leave out the part about finding his grandmother stabbed to death on her kitchen floor. He simply insisted that it was an emergency. Sam ventured upstairs in search of Bill. He found the vampire standing in Sookie's bedroom, relishing the scent of one of her pillows. "You shouldn't sneak up on a vampire, _hunter_."

"No one's sneaking, _vampire_," Sam retorted. "She's asking for you." Sam walked into the bedroom, with an air of confidence he didn't have. It was Dean's move, but the vampire didn't know it. "You know, you got here fast. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were here before us. That would make you our prime suspect."

"Our? You say that like you're actually law enforcement," Bill quipped. "Where's your partner?" he looked around. "I'm sure the sheriff would just love to know that you and Agent Bonham aren't actually FBI, and that you're anti-vampire vigilantes. The AVL would have a field day with that."

Sam smirked. "You think they'd take your word against mine?"

"Oh I have multiple powers of persuasion."

Sam shuddered at what that probably meant. He wasn't just talking about glamouring. It made him wonder why Sookie trusted him so much. "How did you get here so fast?" he probed.

"I heard the car pull into the drive. I came over to see if Miss Stackhouse was alright."

"How did you know she was in distress?" Sam pressed. He already knew the answer. Sookie was bonded to this vampire. He probably sensed her fear.

The vampire smirked. "I didn't." _Liar._ "Now if that's all, I'll attend to Sookie. We don't want to keep her waiting now do we?" The vampire slipped past the hunter and moved downstairs. Sam lingered in Sookie's room for a moment.

He picked up the throw pillow that the vampire had been sniffing. He put it up to his nose and inhaled. There was nothing out of the ordinary. It smelled like Sookie's conditioner and fabric softener. He placed the pillow back in its place on her bed. He stood up straight, noticing that her window was open. Upon further inspection, Sam discovered that the screen had been cut. Adele Stackhouse wasn't the target. She had simply gotten in the way. _The killer was after Sookie. _

Sam closed the door to her bedroom and headed down the stairs. He walked onto the front porch, to find Bill already holding her in his arms, his fingers laced through her blonde tresses. The sight repulsed him more than it should have. "Sookie, maybe you should stay with someone for the night. It's not safe for you here," he suggested.

"Sam, I'm not leavin'. This is my home. This is Gran's home. It's all I have left of her," she argued, pulling away from the vampire.

Bill placed a hand on her shoulder. Again, Sam couldn't tell if it was to comfort Sookie or to show everyone else that she was his. "Sookie I think you it might be best if—"

"No. This is my house. I'm stayin' right here," she said defiantly. Her eyes moved to the door as the coroner wheeled her grandmother's lifeless body out of the house in a bag.

"Miss Stackhouse, I am truly sorry for your loss," Sheriff Dearborne offered apologetically as he stepped out onto the porch.

"Y'all done in there? I'd like to start cleanin' up," Sookie insisted. "If that's alright?"

The sheriff nodded. "You call us at the first sign of anything." The remaining officers cleared the house and left in their patrol cars. Dean followed out behind them, standing beside Sam. Once the porch was clear of law enforcement, Sam spoke up.

"Sookie, the murderer wasn't after your grandmother. He was after you," he explained.

"Me? Why me?" she whispered.

"Well we're not quite sure, but there is a clear pattern. He's goin' after women who associate with vampires," Dean added. "It's not safe here."

"I'm as safe here, as anywhere. Besides, I have y'all to protect me. Don't I?" She looked from Sam to Dean to Bill desperately.

"Sookie, it'll be dawn soon," the vampire began.

"Right, right," she shook her head remembering the time. "You should probably head on home."

"She's in good hands," Dean asserted smugly. Bill stepped off the porch and disappeared into the night. Sookie stood there for a moment, staring off into the distance in to which Bill had vanished.

She quickly came to her senses and cleared her throat. "There's a mop and bucket around back," she said to Sam. "Would you mind gettin' it for me?" she asked, returning to her normal polite demeanor.

"Sookie," Sam insisted. "You should rest—"

"Gran took a lot of pride in her home. She wouldn't want anyone to see it like this." The brothers watched in amazement as the telepath walked inside.


	9. A Kick in the Teeth is Good for Some

**Author's Note:**

Hope you enjoy the chapter. Leave a review.

* * *

By noon the house was filled with people. They had been arriving all morning, carrying casseroles, cakes and pies offering insincere condolences and snooping around for any evidence of the gruesome crime that had been perpetrated the night before. Tara busied herself in the kitchen with a man she had introduced to Sam and Dean as her cousin, Lafayette. Sam sat with Sookie at the kitchen table. She just sat there quiet and still, her eyes glazed over. He wished he knew how to comfort her, tell her that he understood what she was going through. That he knew what it was like to lose someone she loved. He reached to place a hand on her shoulder, but stopped himself when he noticed Dean approaching him from the living room.

"As far as I can tell no one's seen this bald vamp with the skeleton tattoo," he sighed as he took a seat across from Sookie at the kitchen table. "I mean this is a friggin' small town. You'd think a giant, tattooed vamp would stick out to some people." Sam noticed that his brother couldn't bring himself to look in Tara's direction.

The only time they had spoken all morning was when she had introduced them to Lafayette. To which the flamboyant fry cook replied, "Satan in a Sunday hat, girl. Satan in a fuckin' beautiful, Sunday hat," before pursing his lips at Dean. Now the two were like similarly charged magnets, repelling each other in close proximity.

"Tattooed?" Sookie whispered, breaking her silence. The entire kitchen turned to look at her. She cleared her throat, looking at Dean. "Was he bald?" she asked, her voice small and hoarse.

Dean looked at his brother before answering. "Yeah… actually. Or at least that's what Jas—" Sam kicked Dean from underneath the table, silencing him. He glared at Sam, but didn't finish his sentence. "You've seen him?" he asked.

"At Bill's a few days ago. You think he killed Gran?" she inquired. Her eyes were still slightly glazed over, as if she wasn't on this plane, but tuned into a different frequency. Sam imagined that it was taking every bit of her energy to tune out everyone's thoughts. He wasn't quite sure how to answer her question. All of the evidence suggested that the killer was probably human. On the other hand, this would mean leaving Sookie, which was something he wasn't quite prepared to do. Before Sam could formulate a response, Dean answered.

"No. We don't think a vampire did this," he looked over at his brother. "Sam," he grunted tersely. "A word?" He motioned for his brother to join him outside. They went out the side door into the sweltering heat.

"Dean—" he started.

"No. I know what you're thinking and the answer is no. We are not about to waste valuable time babysitting and chasing down faulty leads when we have bigger fish to fry, okay? I get it. You like her. You feel protective of her, but we are not cops. Barney Fife and the gang'll catch him soon."

"C'mon you don't believe that shit anymore than I do. They're idiots. And if this girl winds up dead because of me then I…" his voice trailed off.

"So that's what this is about?" Sam looked away, but Dean grabbed him by the shoulders. "Hey, look at me. You can't do this to yourself okay? Not now. I get it, you're going through shit. The demon blood, Lilith, the seals, the apocalypse, all of it, but you know what? You can't let it do this to you, Sam. You can't play 'what if' right now. And you can't carry this with you for the rest of your life. Mom, Jessica, Madison, and now Sookie. It'll eat you alive." He let Sam go. "The best thing you can do for that girl is walk out that door and never look back and you know it."

Sam shook his head. He wasn't sure what to do next. Dean was right. This was definitely the wrong time to want to play the hero for one woman when there were millions of lives at stake. Jeopardizing the world for a woman he barely even knew was beyond selfish. It was an insult to everything he and his brother stood for. He didn't expect to make it out of this fight alive. It was best to get out now before he caused any more damage.

"We're leaving tomorrow, after the funeral okay?" Dean compromised. Sam nodded. The elder Winchester started up the steps and into the house.

"Is that why you won't talk to Tara?" Sam asked sympathetically. Dean stopped for a moment, and briefly looked over his shoulder before going inside, the screen door slamming behind him.

* * *

The next twelve hours went by in a haze for Sam. He spent the rest of that afternoon at Sookie's. After Jason arrived, he attacked Sookie in a rage. It took Sam, Dean, Tara and Lafayette to drag him out of the house. This didn't assuage Sam's anxiety about leaving Sookie alone, but he had to. Lafayette gave Sookie a sleeping pill shortly after the ordeal, which helped her sleep for the rest of the day and on through the night. Sam would peek in on her periodically. Her long blonde tresses spread across the pillows as she snoozed placidly. Shortly after sundown Bill sped into the house, but once he found out she was all right, he took a sentry position on the lawn, in sight of Sookie's bedroom window. A brown and white collie came along and sat beside Bill after a while, and Sam wondered if perhaps the dog was standing guard too. Dean retired to the motel room around midnight, leaving Sam, Lafayette and Tara.

"You look like you need a drank," Lafayette sauntered into the living room with a bottle of tequila. "Shoot, Lord knows I need one my damn self." He poured some tequila into two glasses and handed one to Sam who accepted it graciously. Lafayette took a sip, as he sat down in the loveseat across from Sam. "So what's yo' story boyfriend?"

Sam looked up from his glass. "What do you mean?"

"A face like that gotta come with a story. And I knows you ain't really FBI so come on wit' it."

"What gave me away?" Sam smirked. He hissed as the tequila burned its way down his throat.

Lafayette cocked his head to the side, examining Sam intently. "You ain't usual. I can tell. Us freaks can normally point each other out. That and my skinny ass cousin can't hold a secret to save her damn life," he raised his voice loud enough for Tara to hear in the kitchen.

"Fuck you, ya ugly bitch," Tara called from the other room.

"The things you do, the shit you done been through, it done left some wounds. It's written all over you," he took another sip. "Now you might care about Sook, shoot every straight man alive and undead in this bum fuck town claim to. But don't you think for a minute that one woman can heal all them wounds by her damn self. All that love, or whatever it is you got for her, it'll kill her in the end."

Tara entered the room, sat beside Lafayette and poured herself a glass. "The fuck you in here talkin' 'bout, bitch?" she teased.

"Mind ya god damn business, that's what the fuck I'm talkin' 'bout," he quipped. He returned his attention back to Sam. "You's anotha' Satan in a Sunday hat. Just like yo' pretty ass brotha'."

As much as Sam hated to admit it, he was right. He finished off the rest of his drink. The sooner he got out of Bon Temps, the better. . Like the night before, every time he dozed off, he'd dream of Eric. He stayed up all night, thinking about what Dean and Lafayette said. Leaving Sookie would be hard, but it was definitely the right thing to do.

* * *

Dean arrived at the gravesite just as the funeral started. He walked up behind Sam and whispered into his ear. "You didn't come back to the motel last night," he teased. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

Sam turned around and looked down at his brother disapprovingly. "Seriously?" he whispered. "No. You were the one who told me to leave her alone, remember?"

"Yeah but I meant after you closed the deal not—" Maxine Fortenberry turned around and shushed them sternly.

Sam apologized before turning to his brother. "Not everyone thinks the way you do," he said, lowering his voice. The funeral continued without a hiccup. That is until Sookie shouted at everyone to "Shut the fuck up!" Dean watched his brother follow behind her as the blonde telepath ran off into the graveyard.

When the reverend concluded with the benediction, Dean caught Tara's elbow as she passed by. "We need to talk."

"Fine," she shrugged before leading him away from the group of people still gathered around the grave. "Look, if you're worried about baby mama drama I'm on the pill. I'm wild, but I ain't crazy."

Dean looked at her surprised. "That's actually not why I wanted to talk," he said a little offended by her assumption. "You left. And I have to say, normally I'm the one who loves 'em and leaves 'em," he admitted.

"So you're comin' at me because your ego is bruised? You do realize that what happened last night, was just sex? I mean you're a drifter, I figured you'd… drift on outta town." She folded her arms and paused for a beat. "Why are you in your brother still here anyway?" Dean opened his mouth to explain but she stopped him. "Let me guess, he's gotta thing for Sookie? Look I appreciate the fact that you and your brother kill vampires, but the last thing she needs is for you two to drag supernatural shit to her front door." She turned to walk away but was stopped by an older black woman in a floral dress wearing a Sunday hat, she was the same woman that spoke during the funeral. Tara's mild annoyance was replaced by controlled anger that fumed beneath the surface. "Mama you had no right to speak for that woman. She was more of a mother to me than you ever were." The woman reached for Tara but she pulled her hand away.

"She took care of me. She fed me. She put clothes on me. She called social services on you twice. You hated her guts."

The woman looked away embarrassed. "No I didn't."

"Yes you did, Mama. You used to call her white devil bitch."

"No Tara. That wasn't me," she pleaded. "That wasn't me that said those things."

"Just 'cause you were too drunk to remember don't mean it never happened."

"Please baby," she begged. "Just listen." Tara quietly folded her arms anticipating her mother's latest excuse. Dean wasn't sure if he should stick around to listen to such an intimate conversation between mother and daughter, but seeing as how no one had excused him, he stood right next to Tara, hoping his presence was supportive rather than a nuisance. "All those terrible things I did to you, it wasn't me who did them. I have a demon inside of me."

Tara blinked incredulously. "What?"

"A demon, livin' and breathin' inside me. Eatin' me up." Tears began to well in her eyes.

Tara finally looked up at Dean and laughed. She laughed so loud that several people standing over at the grave cast disapproving glances. Dean tried to join in, laughing half-heartedly so as to keep up a casual appearance, but it didn't help.

"Don't you laugh at the devil, Tara Mae, 'cause he is as serious as cancer!" her mother admonished.

"I'm sorry but are you hearin' this right now? A demon? Oh fuck me that's too good," she continued laughing.

"It ain't funny! You don't understand what's it like, wrestling with this demon. I try and do right. I try so hard, but it breaks me down. It poisons everything." Tara shook her head.

"I wanna be the mother you deserve. I can make up for everything," she assured her daughter. "It's not too late, but I can't do this alone."

"Do what?" Tara asked sympathetically.

"I gotta get it outta me. And it's very expensive," she revealed with tears in her eyes.

Dean silently watched this exchange, and wondered how many times Tara had been disappointed and used by this woman. She abused her, neglected her, and spent most of Tara's life probably wrestling a demon that wasn't really there. He suddenly couldn't help but feel like this was an echo or reflection of his own childhood. It was a parallel, broken, withered version of his life. It was the story of a child that grew up too fast because she had to take care of her mother. She had to clean up the mistakes of some invisible monster that her mother battled with every single day to the point of insanity.

Before he realized it, he was holding Tara's hand. He clasped it as tight as he could, hoping it would give her the strength to say what he never said. You don't throw your own demons at your kids. He had been battling that demon for so long he wouldn't know how to be normal if he tried. He imagined Tara felt the same way. She squeezed his hand, and for a moment, there was a solidarity that existed between them.

"That's why you came to this woman's funeral? 'Cause you want money?" she asserted, stepping away from her mother and closer to Dean.

"I had nowhere else to go," she pleaded. "Please Tara, you all I got!"

Tara and Dean walked away hand in hand. Her mother called after her, but she closed her eyes and walked along, using Dean as her guide.

"You gonna be alright?" Dean asked.

She stopped in front of him and tilted her head back to look into his eyes. "I don't wanna be alone right now," she whispered. Dean gently placed a kiss on her forehead. He squeezed her hand affectionately as he led her to the Impala.

* * *

When Sam finally found Sookie she was kneeling in front of a grave. He approached her from behind, making sure to make some noise to alert her of his presence so as not to frighten her. He wasn't quite sure what to do or say. "That was a good eulogy," he started casually. "I especially loved the part when you told the whole town to shut the fuck up," he teased.

Sookie stood up and smoothed the front of her dress. "You know me. I'm a real crowd pleaser," she mused sarcastically. Sam walked over and stood beside her. She still hadn't looked up from the grave she was standing over. The headstone read "William Thomas Compton: Beloved Husband, Brave Soldier."

Sam looked over at her. "You really care about him, don't you?"

Sookie finally looked up at him. "He saved my life. I know it's silly or cliché, but he's what I've always wanted. I know there's darkness in him, but there's also so much good. He isn't like anybody else I've ever met." She stopped for a moment. "I'm sorry, Sam. I—"

"No, don't worry about it. Trust me, it's better this way," Sam affirmed with a quiet smile. He was genuinely happy that she was happy. Any doubts he had about Bill, he immediately chocked up to jealousy and a hunter's bias.

"You're leaving now, aren't you?" Sam looked around before answering.

"Yeah, I suppose I am," he sighed.

Sookie turned to him, stood on her tiptoes, and planted a small, gentle kiss on his cheek, before wrapping her arms around his neck in a warm embrace. Sam wrapped his arms around her waist, and took in the scent of her hair. "I'll never forget you, Sookie Stackhouse," Sam breathed into her golden mane. He then released her and offered his arm. "Walk you home?" She accepted graciously.

They maneuvered their way through the maze of Spanish moss and underbrush in silence until they reached the Stackhouse place. He walked her right to the front door. "Take care of yourself, Sam," she said quietly as she opened the door.

"You too," he smiled. She slipped inside her house, and gently closed the door behind her. Sam stood there for a moment, taking in a few deep breaths and trying to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. He loosened his tie in the blazing heat, and headed towards the cemetery when he heard a noise coming from the tree line.

His posture stiffened as he tried to listen for the noise he was certain he'd just heard. There it was again. Someone was watching him. He started to pull his pistol from his waistband when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

"Relax, Sam. It's me," the brunette emerged from the brush.

"Ruby," Sam breathed a sigh of relief.


	10. By the Short & Curlies

**Author's Note:**

Hi guys! I've already written all the way up to chapter twelve in the last couple of days, but because my internet is on the fritz I haven't been able to publish them as quickly as I would've hoped. Right now I'm working on Chapter 13, and I'm super excited because the boys get to meet a certain someone... I'm having too much fun with this story at the moment and I hope you are too. Please review and let me know what you think.

* * *

"Holy shit!" Tara screamed as she bounced up and down on Dean's throbbing member. He rolled over on top and continued to plow away, increasing the force of each thrust. The rickety motel bed squeaked, echoing her throaty whimpers as his hips kept a steady unrelenting pace. He watched Tara writhe beneath him, grunting profane encouragements and dirty little nothings that sent his senses reeling.

Beads of sweat formed at his brow. A knot tightened in his stomach with each thrust, and his muscles burned .He tried not to think about his approaching orgasm. He desperately wanted this moment to last forever, but her muscles contracted around him as her climax wracked her entire body. "Oh fuck!" she cried out, clawing at his back. The pain of her nails digging into his flesh sent him over the edge. Finally the knot in his stomach untied itself, and he slowed the undulation of his hips in an attempt to ride out his orgasm.

He stared down at her for a moment, gazing into her ebony eyes before placing a surprisingly chaste kiss on her lips. He toppled off of her and rolled over on his back, physically spent. Tara snuggled up next to him, placing her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her, and absentmindedly traced circles on her shoulder with his finger. They remained silent for a moment, relishing their post coital displays of affection.

After a while, Tara spoke in a surprisingly small, quiet voice. "Do you really think she's gotta demon inside her?" she asked, looking up at him expectantly. Dean looked down and saw the earnestness in her eyes, a fear and a vulnerability that he didn't know she possessed stared back at him.

He cleared his throat before answering. "No, I don't. But it doesn't mean what she's experiencing isn't real."

Tara was quiet for a moment, as she traced the anti-possession sigil on his chest. "Y'know," she began. "The last time I saw her, she bashed my head in with a bottle of vodka. I keep tellin' myself this is it. This is where I draw the line. But then…" Dean squeezed her shoulder, encouraging her to continue. "She's all I got," she let out a jaded laugh. "It's fucked up, but that's family I s'pose."

Dean looked up at the ceiling to think. "But you can't live like that," he heard himself say. "You'll spend the rest of your life putting up with her shit, sacrificing everything you've ever had, everything you've ever wanted. You do that, and whose to say ten, no, five years from now you look in the mirror and like what you see?"

She looked up at him, confused. "Are you tellin' me to abandon my mama?" she asked defensively.

"I'm telling you not to abandon yourself." He couldn't believe he'd actually said that. He couldn't believe he actually _believed_ it. Family had always come first for him, before the job, before his own life, before anything. But here he was, lying beside a woman he barely knew telling her all the things he'd never told himself. In a way it was too late for Dean, too late to want anything more out of life, too late to give up hunting, too late to be normal. Tara still had a chance. She still had options.

He looked around the ruddy motel room. "Do you really live here?" he teased, trying to change the subject.

"Yes, Dean. I really live here," she replied in a mock-offended tone. "You can't talk, you live in piece o' shit motels too." She playfully thumped him on the chest before standing up and walking over to their pile of clothes.

"So you're just gonna hit and run?" he grunted as he sat up in bed.

"Nope," she said tossing his clothes into his lap. "You are."

* * *

Sam sat across from the demon in a booth at the edge of the restaurant. The skinny redhead, who introduced herself as Arlene at the wake yesterday, approached them with a pen and pad in hand. "What can I start you off with today?"

"Nothing for me," Sam insisted curtly.

"I'll have a diet coke with a large order of fries," Ruby ordered. "Hold the salt," she beamed as she handed Arlene her menu.

"That'll be up shortly," the waitress chimed. Ruby watched her walk away before turning her attention to Sam. She stared at him in silence, as if she was waiting for him to speak first.

"What?" Sam finally asked, bewildered by the demon's scrutiny.

"Oh nothing. I was just trying to figure out what the fuck was so important about Bon Temps, Louisiana. You've been here for days screwing the pooch while I've been sticking my neck out searching for leads on Lilith," she contended hotly.

"We're here on a job," Sam explained.

"Really?" she mused sarcastically. "Tell me, how's that going?"

"It's a dead end," he answered reluctantly. Ruby gave the hunter a knowingly smug look. "So," Sam pressed. "Do you have any leads or not?" Before she could answer, Arlene returned with her diet coke. Ruby thanked the waitress and took a huge gulp. Sam stared at her expectantly.

She set the cup down and spoke. "There's a hit out on this girl, Anna Milton. The demons are trying to get their hands on her. She escaped from a mental hospital a few days ago. It's top priority, but the demons are being really hush-hush about it. Something about not drawing the angels' attention." She handed Sam a slip of paper with the hospital's address. "If you leave in the next hour you and Dean can be there before tomorrow."

Sam took out his smart phone to start looking up the hospital when he suddenly realized that he couldn't leave just yet. _The knife. _"There's a bit of a problem," he began tentatively.

Ruby sat back in the booth and folded her arms. "Oh for fuck's sake, what now?"

"We lost the knife." Ruby rolled her eyes. "But we know where it is, so we can get it back. It's with a vampire, a very old vampire."

Ruby laughed to herself knowingly. "Typical. Y'know, last I checked, we were at war. Do you know how many seals have been broken already? Lilith is going to win if you two don't get your heads out of your asses." Sam nodded. "There's too much at stake for all these fuck ups." Arlene returned with a plate full of French fries.

"Enjoy," she huffed as she walked away.

Ruby doused the fries in ketchup before immediately popping a couple in her mouth. "I don't know why you insist on using the damn thing, anyway," she looked up from her plate.

"You know damn well why I do," he retorted coldly. "I told you, Ruby, I don't like doing that."

"Sam, do us both a favor and stop lying to yourself. It's okay to admit it," she contested.

"No," he barked. He suddenly felt ashamed and exposed, as if somehow everyone in Merlotte's knew his dirty little secret. He looked around nervously, but was relieved to see that no one was paying them any attention. He turned his attention back to the demon. However, out of the corner of his eye, Sam could've sworn he saw the bar owner, Sam Merlotte, glaring in his direction.

* * *

Dean checked his watch before tossing his duffle bag into the backseat of the Impala. It wasn't like Sam to be late, especially when he knew they had to hit the road. He took out his phone and scrolled through his call log to Sam's number. Before he could hit send, an old mustang pulled into the motel parking lot and stopped a few yards away. Sam hopped out, and waved the driver off before approaching his brother.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been waiting for nearly an hour," Dean asserted, following his brother into their motel room. Sam began gathering his belongings hastily.

"I heard you left with Tara. I thought you two might've wanted some privacy," Sam replied without looking up from his duffle bag.

"Right," Dean mused sarcastically. "Well then who the hell was that?" he quizzed, motioning to the parking lot. Sam finally looked up from his bag and looked Dean in the eye.

"It was Ruby," he admitted without conviction. "She's got a lead. This girl, Anna Milton, she escaped from a mental hospital a couple days ago. For some reason, the demons have a bounty on her head. It seems pretty important. "

Dean scoffed before rubbing his chin. "Seriously?" He shook his head.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. "What?" he asked with a shrug.

"I don't get it Sam, why do you trust her so much? What the hell happened while I was downstairs?" Dean probed.

"I don't know, Dean. How was hell? Don't spare the details." Sam knew that would shut him up. Dean had refused to talk about hell for weeks, and he showed no signs of opening up about it any time soon. "She wouldn't have brought it to me if it weren't legit. You were right about this job. It was a dead end. I'm just trying to make up for lost time here. The angels haven't been much help on the Lilith front. This could be about a seal, or anything but we won't know unless we check it out."

Dean looked at his brother skeptically, but didn't continue the argument. A lead from a demon was better than no lead at all. "Well, before we go we gotta make a stop in Shreveport," he sighed. "There's no way I'm lettin' that dead fruitcake keep my favorite gun."

* * *

The sun dipped under the horizon in the rearview mirror as Dean took the Shreveport exit off of I-20. The drive had been relatively quiet, aside from the Led Zeppelin cassette that roared through the Impala. When they'd finally arrived at the nightclub it was just before 9 pm.

"So what's the plan?" Sam asked as they slammed the doors and made their way to the trunk. Dean popped her open and tossed a stake at his younger brother. Sam looked down at the weapon and put it back in the trunk. As much as he wanted to stake the bastard, he knew they were no match for Eric. "I was thinking something a little more subtle."

Dean stood up straight with a silver chain in hand. "I don't do subtle," he replied gravely. Sam took the chain from his hands and placed it in the trunk.

"Hear me out," he insisted. "That vampire in there is old, the oldest one we've ever encountered. Now, I don't think he wants to kill us, but if you go in there armed he's not going to have a choice. We don't want a repeat of what happened last time."

Dean rolled his eyes. "So you're saying?"

Sam shrugged. "He took the knife and your gun for leverage obviously," he started.

"Wait, you want to make a deal with this psycho?" Dean asked incredulously.

"What? No, hell no. I'm just sayin', let's hear what he has to say before we go in guns blazin'." Dean took a moment to think over his brother's suggestion. To Sam's relief he took out his glock and tossed it in the trunk before slamming it shut.

"I'm not goin' in naked," Dean insisted, lifting his pant leg to reveal a silver blade strapped to his leg. Sam sighed, accepting that this was as close to a compromise as his brother was going to make. There was no line outside of the club, which Sam had expected this early on a weeknight. They went inside and Sam couldn't tell if he was relieved or reluctant about the place being relatively empty. The overhead lights were on, and aside from a bottle blonde human restocking the bar, there wasn't a soul in sight.

"Don't be nervous," she beamed when she noticed them standing by the door. "The vampires here are quite friendly," she insisted. "What can I get for you two?" she asked with a dopey smile.

Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at the woman knowingly. "You wouldn't happen to be Ginger would you?"

"Yeah," she answered as she busied herself with wiping down the bar. She looked up at him, puzzled. "I'm sorry have we met before?"

"We spoke on the phone the day before yesterday," Dean answered with a charming wink. Much to their dismay, she started shrieking and howling in terror.

Sam instantly tried to shush the woman but it was no use. The closer he moved towards her, the louder and more frantic her cries became. "We're not gonna hurt you," he insisted.

"Oh for fuck's sake Ginger, would you shut the fuck up." The blonde she-vamp appeared from behind a door. This time she was wearing an alarmingly pink velour tracksuit. She stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, staring at the two hunters. "I didn't think it was possible, but you two look even more ridiculous than before. Like gay lumberjacks. Seriously? Flannel? In the summer?"

"Look who's talking," Dean quipped. The vampire raised an eyebrow. Sam couldn't tell if she was impressed or annoyed.

"Pamela," a Nordic voice boomed from behind her. "Please invite our guests into my office. I've been expecting them." A jolt of what Sam hoped was fear ran down his spine, generating a very uncomfortable heat in his loins. He hadn't given any real thought to how this would play out. If Dean found out that Eric had forced him to drink his blood he wouldn't know how his brother would react.

The brothers reluctantly walked into the office. It was surprisingly underwhelming. Cases of beer and shelves stocked with assorted liqueurs lined one wall while the rest were covered in tacky Fangtasia posters and beer ads. The vampire sheriff sat behind an ordinary metal desk, his shoulder length blonde hair encompassing a hardened pale face with eyes that were inexplicably lazy and fierce at the same time. Sam's pulse quickened at the sight of his sinewy arms and shoulders in his black tank top. He cursed his body for betraying him. Although his blood boiled in his veins he fixed the vampire with a hardened, cold glare. A smirk tugged at the corner of the vampire's mouth.

"Leave us," he ordered. The she vamp rolled her eyes lazily before leaving the office, closing the door behind her. He sat back in his chair and studied the pair of them for a moment. "Please, have a seat," he insisted.

"We prefer to stand," Dean answered for the both of them, an edge of anger in his voice.

He looked from one brother to the other, seemingly amused and rightly so. It didn't matter if they were standing; the sheriff was still the most dominant being in the room. He could rip them asunder in seconds. Despite their compromising position, Sam didn't feel at all threatened. "You have something that belongs to us," Sam asserted boldly.

"That I do." He didn't bother denying it. "I confiscated very dangerous weapons from two vigilantes. I'm bound by duty to ensure the safety of the law abiding vampires in Area 5," he explained casually.

"Stow the AVL party line," Sam retorted. "What do you want with us?"

He stared at Sam for a moment, steeling him with an icy glare, but Sam didn't falter. After a while the smirk returned, and Sam wondered if the vampire could really sense his anxiety, or was he simply amused at his attempt to intimidate him. "Sam and Dean Winchester," he mused almost to himself. "I wonder what the FBI would do if they ever found out about you two faking your deaths. Or what the AVL would think about your baby vamp killing spree last year. Or the nest you attacked the year before that or the one before that?"

Dean shrugged nonchalantly, "What can I say? We've been busy."

"Not as busy as I've been. You see I have friends in very high places. Friends that want nothing more than to see you two pay the for crimes you've committed against my kind."

"What to do you want with us?" Sam repeated firmly.

"Hunters can be useful for a vampire like me."

"We've got more pressing matters than to be at your beck and call, Fabio," Dean asserted.

The sheriff chuckled knowingly. "That's right. The apocalypse," he mused sarcastically. "How many times have humans said the world was going to end in the last thousand years? So several million of you die. It won't be the first time and it certainly won't be the last."

Sam's impatience was boiling over. "We're not talking about the bubonic plague or Pompeii. Satan will—"

Eric lifted a large hand to stop him. "Please, I try to stay away from politics and religion." He opened a drawer in his desk and took out the knife and Dean's pearl handled gun. "If you take these, then you're accepting my terms and conditions. You'll come when I call and you'll do what I ask of you. In return I won't report you to the AVL or the Authority." His gaze landed on Sam. "And remember, I see everything, I know everything and I will find you. There's no where you can hide." He slid them across the desk.

Dean clenched his jaw defiantly and glared at his brother who silently pleaded for him to comply with the vampire's wishes. Reluctantly, they took the weapons from the desk. "Ginger will escort you out," he smiled.

As the two exited the club and walked across the parking lot to the Impala, Dean stopped. "I swear to god, I'm gonna stake that fucker right in the face." Sam started to protest but Dean interrupted him. "No we're going to wait 'til dawn, and I'm going to drive a stake through his pretentious head."

"No you're not. If we kill a sheriff, the V-feds will be on us before we know it. We'll put up with this as long as we have to. Besides, he could've done a lot worse."

Dean looked at his brother incredulously. "So what you're defending him now?"

"No," Sam answered nervously. "I'm just being practical." Dean looked at him suspiciously for a moment and then continued towards the Impala.

"C'mon we can get to Kansas before tomorrow night if we hurry," he called behind him. "You should probably get some sleep on the way. You look like shit."

Sam took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Dean was right. He'd have to tolerate the dreams if it meant being sane enough to handle the Anna Milton case.


	11. Storm On The Horizon

**Author's Note:**

This chapter picks up several weeks after Sam and Dean leave Bon Temps. A week after Dean tortures Alastair for Castiel in episode 4x16 "On the Head of a Pin." Dean struggles with Alastair's revelation about the seals while Sam deals with Ruby and Eric's blood.

* * *

Sam closed his eyes as the hot water cascaded down his back. He ran a hand through his hair and let the water from the showerhead trickle down his face. It had been days since he had seen Ruby and he was in dire need of her blood. He could feel himself growing weaker without it. It had taken a lot of her blood to kill Alastair, more than he'd ever drank before. He squashed the demon like an insect, slowly twisting his wings before ripping him a part. The power was exhilarating, yet terribly frightening. Despite this fact, there was no doubt in Sam's mind that he was in complete control. If he could kill Alastair, then he could kill Lilith. And if he could kill Lilith, then he could stop the apocalypse. It was all up to him now.

He turned off the water, and reached for a towel. The rack was empty. _Great, _he thought as he stepped out of the shower. "Dean?" He called. "We're out of towels. Call the front desk." There was no reply. "Dean?" he shouted a little louder. He opened the bathroom door, only to discover an empty motel room. _Where the hell could he have gone this time of night?_ Sam walked over to the nightstand between the two beds and dialed the front desk. "Uh, yeah can I get some clean towels sent up to room 213? Yeah thanks," Sam hung up.

Suddenly he heard a knock on the door. Sam grabbed his nine-millimeter pistol from underneath his pillow and slowly walked towards the door. He turned the doorknob, flinging the door open quickly.

"Fresh towel?" The blonde vampire smirked, exposing his fangs. Sam grabbed a towel from the sheriff's hands and quickly wrapped it around his waist. "Well," the vampire eyed the hunter lecherously, "aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Why should I?" Sam asked, pointing the weapon at the vamp with one hand and holding the towel up with the other.

"Because, I could just wait here 'til you brother gets back and glamour him into letting me in," he leaned against the doorpost. "You're in my debt, Sam Winchester," he stood up straight looking Sam right in the eye, "and I've come to collect."

Sam didn't want to risk Dean's life. He stood aside, "Come in." The vampire nodded graciously, retracting his fangs and walking inside the motel room.

"Well, I see you and your brother are quite comfortable with living like vagabonds," he said observing the crummy room. He sat down on Sam's bed, and folded his long legs. "Have a seat, sweetheart," he patted the area of the comforter next to him.

Sam decided against his better judgment to take a seat on the bed, making sure to sit as far away from the vampire as possible. "You're shy? I wasn't expecting that from the boy with the demon blood." Sam looked at Eric suspiciously. "There aren't that many things that can make your blood as bitter as bile. And quite dangerous to boot."

Sam shifted uncomfortably, "What do you mean?"

"Demon blood, it's quite toxic to us. I was fortunate to spit yours out when I did, or I would've been weakened considerably," he placed a hand on Sam's knee.

Sam looked up at the vampire uneasily. "What do you want?"

The vampire leaned in close, merely a breath away from Sam's lips. "Everyone thinks you're so dewy eyed and sensitive, huh? But I know better, just like I know how much you love the rush of my blood in your veins. It's the power, Sam. You crave it. Even now," he whispered. He cupped Sam's chin in his cold dead hands. "I can hear my blood in you. It's calling to me." He leaned in, pressing a kiss on Sam's lips. Sam wasn't sure where this was going, but Eric was right. His blood made him yearn for him, for power. He grabbed the vampire's hair, hungrily exploring his mouth with his tongue. Eric pulled away and ripped his towel off at vamp speed. He pinned him on his stomach, leaning over and kissing the back of his neck, allowing his fangs to gently nick his skin. Sam hissed at the sensation. "Relax now, my lover and breathe deep." Sam could hear the vampire unzipping his jeans. He anticipated the pain that was to come. "I promise if you relax, the pain won't last very long." Sam nodded, burying his face into the comforter of the bed. The vampire entered him slowly. Sam groaned at the pain. It was white hot, and he feared he wouldn't be able to accommodate Eric's size.

"Relax," the vampire whispered. Sam concentrated on his breathing as Eric went deeper. He paused for a moment, allowing Sam to adjust to the feel of his member inside of him. When he felt Sam's muscles relax, he plunged deeper. Sam clinched the comforter in his hands, fighting back the urge to cry out. When Eric was all the way in he leaned over and whispered, "You did so well, taking all of me, lover." He began moving his hips, thrusting in then pulling out gently. The pain began to fade into boundless pleasure, and Sam started to moan. Eric increased his pace, grabbing a fist full of Sam's hair and thrusting harder.

Sam panted, as Eric kept increasing his speed. He could feel the bed moving in time to Eric's thrusts. Sam writhed and moaned, biting his bottom lip to contain the urge to scream. "Sam," the vampire growled, "Sam."

"SAM!" Sam awoke with a start. "Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean shouted through the door. "C'mon open up, I been out here for ten minutes!" He knocked persistently, until Sam finally came to the door. "Woah… you look like shit," Dean acknowledged as he limped into the room. Dean was still pretty banged up from their run in with Alastair. Bags were forming under Sam's eyes from his lack of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Eric Northman. Despite their heart to heart about Ruby and hell, Sam couldn't bring himself to tell his brother that he had demon _and_ vampire blood coursing through his veins. Eric's blood was persistent. It had been over a month since they left Bon Temps, and even though his physical strength and heightened senses had waned, he still dreamt about the vampire. Ruby's blood, or the lack thereof, was beginning to take its toll on the hunter as well. She hadn't returned his calls in days.

"Look who's talking? They let you out of the hospital?" Sam asked as he watched his brother take a seat on his bed. Dean suffered a broken rib, a concussion, and a few bumps and bruises that still lingered on his face.

"C'mon Sam, I've been in that hospital for almost a week. I'm fine," he barked. "We got anything on Lilith?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Ruby hasn't been returning my calls, so that's a no," Sam headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. "What about Cas?" He asked through a mouth full of toothpaste.

Dean hadn't spoken to Castiel since that night. If Dean had to be honest, he didn't want to see the angel again. After all the time he had spent trying to forget about the horrible things he had done in hell, he couldn't believe that Castiel would ask him to open old wounds and torture someone again, even if it was just a demon. Alastair's words plagued Dean. _And it is written, that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break._

How could he tell his brother that he was the one who started it all? As far as Dean was concerned, he was done. He wasn't strong enough to take on Alastair. How the hell could he be strong enough to stop the apocalypse? He walked over to the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of Jack. "I'm through with this angel crap," he finally answered, pouring a drink. "How did you manage to kill Alastair, anyway?" he asked before taking a swig.

Sam paused for a moment to spit. He looked at himself in the mirror, contemplating what lie he should tell his brother. If Dean had been angry with him for exorcising demons with his mind, he would probably go postal if he found out he killed one using his powers; especially if that demon was as powerful as Alastair. Before Sam could answer, his cell phone rang on the nightstand. The brothers looked at each other for a moment, then back at the cell phone. Dean handed his brother the phone, without bothering to check to see who it was. In his heart, he already knew it was Ruby.

"Ruby," Sam answered with a sigh of relief. "Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you for days." He paused for a moment to listen to her answer.

"And?" he pressed, walking to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. Dean rolled his eyes. Although he was thankful that Ruby took care of his brother while he was in hell, he still found it hard to trust her. He strained to listen, as he sat down on the bed, taking another gulp of whiskey. Dean was a good listener, but Sam was a better whisperer. He finally gave up and finished off his drink before pouring himself another. Shortly after he finished it Sam exited the bathroom, and started packing hastily.

"So you wanna tell me what's going on, or…?" he asked setting his glass down on the nightstand.

"Ruby's got a lead on Lilith," he answered without looking up from his duffle bag.

"Okay, you wanna be more specific?" he asked, standing up and walking over to his brother.

"Well it's not exactly Lilith," he said finally looking up at his brother.

"Right…" Dean looked at his brother skeptically.

"Seriously? After everything she's done for me, for us? You still don't trust her?" Sam asked, incredulously.

"It's not that I'm not grateful, but she's a demon, Sam. I'm not just gonna hold hands with the bitch and jump off a cliff, simply because she says so."

"Well, it's in Bon Temps," Sam divulged, rolling a pair of jeans and stuffing them into his duffle bag. Dean's face softened. Sam hadn't mentioned anything about Bon Temps or the blonde waitress for weeks. But Dean knew how hard it was for Sam to walk away, especially when Sookie needed them the most. It was hard for both of them. Dean thought about his feisty bartender often, but he knew better than to dwell on something that would never happen. He couldn't help but wonder if she was happy and safe. Dean shook his head, snapping himself back to the problem at hand.

"You realize this could be a trap, right?" he asked, watching his brother pack his laptop into a satchel.

"Look, Ruby's sources are reliable. There are omens, lightning storms, crop failures, you name it. Something is circling Bon Temps, and if we don't hurry, Sookie could be in danger." Sam looked at his brother, his eyes desperately begging him to trust him, to follow his lead for once.

"Sure Sammy," Dean conceded, giving him the benefit of the doubt. Although he knew Sam was still hiding something, he decided it was best not to argue. Ruby had taken care of Sam when he couldn't, but that didn't mean he wouldn't ask Bobby to check the omens out later, just to be certain.

* * *

"Still no answer?" Dean asked as he parked in Sookie's gravel drive way. The two arrived in Bon Temps just a few hours before dawn. Sam shook his head before pressing "End Call." It wasn't like Sookie to not answer her phone, even if she were at work. Sookie called Sam a few times over the last month, updating him on the serial killer case, and letting him know she was safe. The last time he heard from her she confessed that she had to kill Renee Lenier, the man who had killed the two women, her grandmother and her brother's girlfriend. Sam did his best to comfort her that night, assuring her that she did what she had to do.

"Well, have you tried Ruby?" Dean asked, snapping him back to the present. She wasn't answering her cell phone, either. Sam scrolled through his contacts and dialed Ruby's number again. It went straight to voicemail. Sam let out a heavy sigh, before ending the call. He looked out of the window, trying to hide the very real fear that tightened in his stomach.

"Sam we've been in town for two hours," Dean complained, leaning his head back on the seat. "Did you ever think maybe Ruby was yankin' your chain?"

"You said it yourself. Bobby said the omens, check out. Something's going on in this town. We just gotta figure out what." As Sam dialed Sookie's number for the hundredth time, they noticed her yellow subcompact pulling up the driveway. The brothers exited the Impala; the doors squeaking open, and then shut as they ran towards the car. The car came to a halt, and a tall red head got out, her face covered in blood. As the brothers approached her, they realized the blood that streamed down her cheeks were tears. She was a vampire.

"Who the hell are you?" she choked through sobs.

"I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean, we're…" Sam paused for a beat; he didn't want to frighten the obviously young vampire. She couldn't have been more than a few weeks old. "…Friends of Sookie's." He finished. Dean nodded in approval, flashing a smile at the baby vamp. "Is she alright? She's not answering her phone," Sam inquired.

The baby vampire started crying hysterically. Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam shot him a bitch face. "She got attacked by this... this... thing," she sobbed. "We were on our way back from seeing my family, before Bill came in and ruined everything." She attempted to wipe the blood from her face, but her efforts were fruitless. The blood smeared all over her cheeks. Dean let out a silent gag, before Sam stepped on his foot, and gave him a disapproving glare.

"You said she was attacked. By a vampire?" Sam asked, trying to sound sympathetic.

The baby vamp stopped crying for a moment, offended. "No… fucking racist. I didn't see it, but it smelled horrible. It left a huge scratch on her back, there was so much blood." She paused for a beat. "I'm so fucking hungry," she whimpered before bawling, more blood tears smearing her pale face.

"Where is she now?" Sam asked, growing impatient.

"Fangtasia," she sniffled. The brothers hurried back to the Impala. "I'm Jessica, by the way!" She called after them.


	12. Somebody That I Used To Know

**Author's Note:**

****Nothing to say for today. Thanks for sticking with this story. I know I have a tendency to post sporadically, but I honestly do think about this story and its readers a lot. So... yep... enjoy.

* * *

Sookie stirred on the leather couch, turning over onto her back before opening her eyes. Her vision was still a blur in her sleepy haze, but as her eyes focused she could make out a very familiar pair of blue eyes with traces of green and hazel. "Sam?" She thought perhaps she was still dreaming, but if Bill had given her his blood why would she be dreaming of Sam? She tried to sit up to get a better look at her surroundings, but he placed a warm hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Woah, take it easy," Sam insisted, his voice saturated with concern as he knelt down beside her. Sookie ignored his warning, crashing into Sam's wall of a chest. The force nearly knocked him over backwards. So he _was_ real. This wasn't a dream. Sam wrapped his arms around her, and kissed the top of her head. She breathed in the scent of fresh laundry and after-shave as she curled her fingers in his flannel shirt. She never thought she'd see him again, but he was here and he was real.

Sookie pulled away abruptly, "Where's Bill?" she asked. Her eyes darted from corner to corner in search of her boyfriend. She spotted Ginger across the room, wiping down a table, but there was no sign of Bill.

"He's resting out back," he answered, pointing a thumb towards the back of the bar.

"So it's day time?" Sam nodded. With his assistance, Sookie tried to stand, walking over to a mirror and lifting up the giant blood red t-shirt to get a look at the scratches on her back. Sam turned around, attempting to be a gentleman despite the fact that his libido was rearing its ugly head. Sookie noticed the scars were completely healed. It still surprised her how strong Bill's blood was.

"Where's your brother?" she inquired, pulling her shirt down.

Sam waited a moment before turning around to answer her. "He went to get some dinner," he shrugged. "He should be back soon. Why don't you sit down?" he suggested, pulling a chair out from a nearby table. Sookie smoothed the over sized shirt making sure she didn't give Sam an eye full before taking a seat. He sat across from her. For a brief moment, she felt like they were back at the coffee shop, laughing, enjoying each other's company. So much had changed since that night. Gran was gone, she had killed a man, and now she was sleeping with a vampire. Though she loved Bill with all her heart, she knew that life with him would never be normal. They wouldn't have children or grow old together. Sookie probably wouldn't grow old at all if she kept getting tangled in vampire business. There was still so much she didn't know about Bill and the world of vampires. He had lied to her for weeks about having a progeny. She wondered what else he could be hiding.

"So," Sam scratched the back of his neck attempting to break the awkward silence. "What's new?" Sookie had never told Sam about Bill whenever they would have their brief conversations over the phone. She didn't see the need to bother him with her tumultuous love life when he was fighting a war. But now the hunter seemed genuinely interested in learning what was going on in her life, other than the horrific nightmare she barely escaped. She didn't know whether she should bring up Bill now. "You don't have to hide it," he smiled. "I'm a big boy."

She breathed a sigh of relief, happy that he was comfortable with talking about it. "You mean Bill."

"Look, I'm no one to judge. It's the 21st century, and if Bill makes you happy," he looked down before continuing. "Then I'm happy for you." He looked up at her and smiled. For once someone sincerely understood and actually cared. She placed her hand in his. He was always so warm.

She returned his smile. "What about you?" she inquired. "Is there a lucky lady in your life?" Sam's face grew solemn. She didn't mean to hit a nerve, again. She searched his face for any clue of what suddenly plagued him. When she found no answer, she tried reading his mind… but couldn't. Something was different about him. It had only been a month since the last time she saw him. What could've changed so quickly?

Ginger interrupted her train of thought as she walked over to them. "Do you want a drink, Miss Sookie?"

"No thank you, I'm fine," she insisted turning her attention back to Sam. She tried to read his mind again, but there was nothing. It was all a blank.

"What about you, handsome?" Ginger asked Sam.

"I'll have some water, thanks." He looked at Sookie, whose face had blanched. Sam's brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" Before Sookie could answer, Ginger's thoughts howled inside of her head. _Oh shit. Eric said she could read minds. She probably knows about her drag queen friend in the basement. Eric's gonna be so pissed!_

"You have Lafayette?" Sookie whirled around in her seat. Lafayette had been missing for two weeks. She stood up walking towards Ginger who was backing away from her in terror. _Shit, how could I be so stupid? Stop thinkin', stop thinkin'! I hope she doesn't find the gun near the cash register!_ Sookie ran to the register behind the bar, and grabbed the revolver. Ginger screamed hysterically. Sookie cocked the pistol. "Take me to him now!"

"Woah, woah, woah, Sookie! Put the gun down," Sam cautioned. He stood up calmly, trying to help defuse the situation.

"No! Eric has Lafayette locked up in the basement," she explained, her eyes still fixed on Ginger. Before Sam could protest, she ran passed them both, flinging open the door to the basement and hurrying downstairs. Sam ran down after her. There, chained in the dark dungeon, was a disheveled and unkempt Lafayette. He reeked of blood and urine. "Oh my god, Lafayette?"

He was so weak he could barely turn his head to look at her. "Sook? Is that you?"

"It's me, I'm here," she soothed rubbing his head gently.

"Am I a vampire?" he asked hopefully.

She looked at him bewildered, "You don't look like a vampire."

"Damn…" his voice trailed off and he closed his eyes, resting his head on the pillar behind him.

"Lafayette, I'm going to get you out of here, I promise," she encouraged. "Where's the key?" she turned to Ginger who was staring from the top of the stairs.

"It's not here. Eric has it," she answered.

Sookie turned her attention back to Lafayette. "Don't worry, I'll get you out tonight." Reluctantly, she started for the stairs pausing to look at Sam. "Eric Northman is going to pay for this," she said through gritted teeth. When they came up from the basement, Dean was standing at the bar with a bucket of Popeye's.

"What I miss?" he asked, seeing the angry look on Sookie's face.

"Eric Northman has Lafayette chained up in the basement. He's been shot, and bit, and sittin' in his own filth for weeks."

"Woah, you mean Tara's cousin, Lafayette?" Dean asked incredulously. Sam nodded.

"We have to do something. We can't just let him rot," Sookie resolved. She had to save her friend, no matter the cost.

* * *

Sam watched Eric uneasily while Sookie paced back and forth in his office. The vampire was sitting on his desk casually listening to the telepath's proposal. "So if I agree to go with you to Dallas, then you'll let Lafayette go?" she asked, folding her arms.

"Sookie no," Bill protested. "You nearly died last night. You are not going to Dallas," he ordered her. Sam hated to agree with the vampire, but he was right. He and his brother scoured their dad's journal and they had no idea what could've attacked her. Dean had even tried Bobby and his best guess was a Minotaur, which didn't really exist, not in the last several millennia at least.

Sookie looked at Bill defiantly. "I can make up my own mind, Bill," she insisted.

Eric finally spoke, his voice calm and quiet. "I'll have to cover your expenses of course, but yes. I'll let your friend go." He casually folded his arms, the corners of his mouth moving slightly upwards into a smug grin. Sam could feel the vampire's blood influence. The longer he stayed around Eric, the more the bond grew. The sheriff looked passed the blonde waitress at Sam. He could probably sense how utterly uncomfortable he felt in his presence.

"I'll want $5,000 as well," Sookie bargained. Eric's eyes went back to the telepath.

"Your human is getting cocky, Bill," he looked away as if he was bored with this drabble. Bill stepped forward.

"She'll take 10,000," he insisted. "And I'll be her escort."

"Absolutely not," Eric said looking the vampire in the eye. Sam couldn't tell if Eric was going to fall sleep or break Bill's neck.

"Yes," Sookie agreed. "10,000 and Bill comes with me or it's a deal breaker." She stared at Eric defiantly, refusing to break eye contact. Sam looked at Sookie, then Eric. If he didn't know any better it almost felt like the two were flirting.

After some time, Eric picked up his office phone and muttered something in Swedish before hanging up. "You surprise me. That's a rare quality in a breather," he said admiring the petite waitress.

"You disgust me," she replied, narrowing her eyes.

"Perhaps I'll grow on you," he teased.

"I'd prefer cancer," Sookie quipped. Dean let out a low whistle, breaking the awkward silence in the room. Sam turned to his brother, shaking his head and mouthing the word "no." Moments later Pam entered the office and tossed Lafayette on the floor.

"I have to say, this is a real shame. I was really looking forward to making you my pet," Pam mused before walking away.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you ain't exactly my type, bitch," Lafayette called after her. Sam and Bill helped him to his feet and made their way to the door.

"And where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" Eric called after Sam. "We have business to discuss, you and I." Sookie looked from the hunter to the vampire.

"Business?" she raised an eyebrow at the blonde vampire.

Eric ignored the telepath's question, "I'll begin making travel arrangements. We'll have to leave immediately." He turned his attention back to Sam, "I'm sure you can find your way out. The hunters and I have much to discuss." Sookie followed behind Bill and Lafayette. First she couldn't read Sam's mind anymore and now this? Her mind was reeling at the prospect of what he could've been hiding from her. Bill did say hunters were dangerous. If a vampire as strong as Bill lived in fear of hunters, then she wondered how much she should trust the Winchesters.

* * *

Sam could feel Sookie's eyes boring into the back of his head as she left with Bill and Lafayette. _She knows,_ he thought. He feared that she had read his mind, known about Eric's blood and the demon blood. His powers had grown considerably as of late. He was able to torture and kill Alastair without breaking a sweat. He could feel the darkness growing inside of him, but he knew he was in control. He was using his abilities to save lives, and in the end that's all that really mattered.

Eric walked behind his desk before taking a seat. He extended his hand, motioning for the hunters to do the same. "I prefer to stand," Dean insisted, his face rigid with contempt. Sam stood behind his brother, careful to keep his distance from the vampire. The blood bond made him feel naked and exposed.

"Suit yourself," Eric replied with an apathetic sigh. "I'll assume that you two are the best at what you do. Or you're still alive because of sheer dumb luck."

"I like to think it's both," Dean smirked.

"Whatever the case, I have a job for you. You're going to hunt down the creature that attacked Sookie and lend your services in helping me track down the missing vampire sheriff of Dallas."

"And if we don't?" Dean asked defiantly.

"Well it shouldn't be too hard for me to find you and use several powers of persuasion. Isn't that right, Sam?"

"The hell is he talking about, Sam?" Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"Oh so you haven't told him about our little blood bond?" Eric stretched his long legs onto his desk, leaning back into his chair.

"A blood what? You _drank _his blood?" Dean inquired, his face twisting in disgust.

Sam quickly explained himself, "He forced me to."

"Oh… you self-indulgent bastard, I'm gonna rip your heart from your chest and drive a stake through it myself," he forced through gritted teeth.

Eric sped his way over to Dean grabbing him by the throat and raising him off the ground. Sam grabbed a stake from his jacket pocket, but Eric was too quick. He disarmed the hunter and pushed him aside returning his attention to Dean. "I am the oldest and the strongest vampire in this kingdom and I do not respond well to threats," he hissed, his fangs bared. "The only reason you're still alive is because your brother is of value to me. Once you become more trouble than you're worth I'll rip out your throat with one fang." He released the hunter and returned to his desk. His demeanor calm once again.

Sam and Dean struggled to their feet. "We'll find whatever attacked Sookie. For her sake, not yours," Sam panted, trying to catch his breath.

"Whatever your reasons, you'll hunt down the creature and should the need for either of you arises in efforts to find the vampire sheriff of Dallas, you will come immediately. Is that understood?" Neither of them spoke. "Good," the vampire grinned. "I'm sure you can show yourselves out," Eric motioned towards the door as he turned his attention to a few papers on his desk.

The brothers exited the nightclub and walked to the Impala. Dean remained silent as he got into the car and barreled out of the parking lot heading for I-20 back to Bon Temps. As he merged onto the interstate he picked up speed, weaving in and out of the late night traffic. Sam looked over at his brother. He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. "A fucking month," he started. "A fucking month goes by, and you're walking around with that douche's blood in you and you say nothing?" he glared over at his brother. "You lied to me."

"Everything's okay, Dean," Sam tried to assure his brother.

"No! It's definitely not okay. First we're working with Ruby and now some fanger? You lied about Azazel's blood for a year—"

"I didn't lie about that, I just chose not to tell you," he interrupted. "You didn't need to know."

"Yes I did. I'm your brother, Sam. We said we'd stop hiding things from each other." Dean paused for a moment. He attempted to calm himself. "What else are you keeping from me?" The question hung in the air, Sam too afraid to answer, Dean too afraid to know the answer.

"Nothing," Sam lied. He couldn't tell Dean about the demon blood. If Dean was this upset about vampire blood that he drank unwillingly then he would go ballistic over him drinking Ruby's blood to get stronger. He needed it, if he was going to fight and win this war. He was going to kill Lilith. He was going to end the apocalypse. Dean was too weak, broken by his months in hell. No, it was all up to Sam now. It was his turn to save his brother, even if it meant losing him. _In the end, he'll understand, _Sam told himself. _It will all be worth it, in the end. _


	13. The Pain or the Hangover

**Author's Note:**

****Enjoy! Leave a review. I'd like some sort of feedback.

* * *

The brothers set out the next morning in their usual FBI get up. Sam guzzled down an embarrassingly large cup of coffee as he tried to blot out the images of last night's subconscious sex-capades with the vampire sheriff of Area 5. He was convinced that if the apocalypse didn't kill him then the dreams would. Dean looked over at his brother as he made a right turn onto Main Street. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam lied. He took another gulp, not caring that the scolding hot coffee was scorching his tongue mercilessly. He flipped open yesterday's paper and reread the article on the first victim. She had been found dead in Detective Bellefleur's squad car with the same scratches on her back as Sookie.

Dean pulled up in front of the coroner's office and turned off the Impala's engine. The two hopped out of the muscle car and slammed the doors simultaneously. Sam downed the rest of the coffee and tossed the cup into a trashcan before following Dean inside. The air conditioning provided much needed relief from the sweltering heat. Sam approached the receptionist's desk.

"We're looking for Coroner Mike Spencer," Sam asked politely as he flashed his fake FBI badge. She instructed the two to head through the big double doors to the last door on the left.

"You look terrible," Dean noted, concerned as they walked down the corridor. Sam ignored him, but his brother pulled him aside by the elbow. "Seriously when was the last time you had a good night's sleep?" he pressed.

Sam let out a long sigh. "About a month ago. I'm fine," he insisted trying to change the subject.

"Is it the blood?" It took Sam a moment to understand which blood he was talking about. The lack of Ruby's blood was beginning to wear him down. Everything ached so badly and no medication helped. The lack of sleep brought on by Northman's blood only added to the pain. Dean avoided the answer and continued. "After this you need to go back to the motel and get some shut eye, okay? You can't watch my six if you're half dead." He patted Sam on the back before continuing down the hallway.

When they arrived in the lab, Sheriff Dearborne, a female deputy and Mike Spencer were already examining the body.

There's been panther sightings up in Nacotish," the coroner suggested.

The sheriff leaned in examining the deep gashes along the victim's back, "These are too wide for a panther."

The female deputy looked up and spotted Sam and Dean as they entered the room. "And who are you?" she asked tearing everyone's attention away from the body.

"Kenya, this is Agent Bonham and Plant. They're with the FBI. What can I do for you fellas today?" Dearborne asked extending a hand to Sam and then Dean.

"We heard about another woman being murdered in Bon Temps, so we just couldn't stay away," Dean joked, giving the sheriff a firm handshake.

"I'm glad you can find this amusing, agent. A black woman is paralyzed and then butchered to death in the town where I live… I didn't realize that was funny," the deputy folded her arms.

Sam gave his brother a bitch-face for his tactlessness. "Forgive my partner, deputy. You said the woman was paralyzed?" he probed stooping down to examine the wide gashes.

"Yep," Mike Spencer answered. "There's a nasty neurotoxin in those wounds. My guess is it paralyzed her and she was alive when they took her heart. And that's what killed her."

"So an animal did it," the Sheriff mused.

"An animal did that," the coroner pointed to the scratches. "But the heart was carved out, with a knife."

Sam leaned in, "Did you ever figure out what the neurotoxin was?" he looked up at the coroner.

"I compared it to a few different samples I had on hand. Snake venom, scorpions, a few spiders, but nothing matched. Nothing even came close."

"Who was she?" Dean asked.

"Nancy LeVoir," the deputy answered. "She worked at a pharmacy few towns over. Apparently she also went by the name Miss Jeanette. Gave Tara Thorton and her mama a fake exorcism. Swindled them both out of over a $1000."

Dean's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Tara's name in a seemingly unrelated investigation. "An exorcism?" he asked incredulously.

The deputy nodded in response, looking down at the body. "I don't care how much money a woman conned outta me, I wouldn't wish this kind of death on anybody."

Suddenly Detective Bellefleur entered the room holding a file. "Kenya, I wanted to ask you about the pig I seen in this report you wrote up after Tara Thorton's car wreck."

"Tara was in an accident?" Dean could hear his own voice breaking with worry. He coughed, and swallowed the lump of anxiety that bobbed in his throat.

"More like a DUI," Kenya explained.

"Andy, what are you doin' lookin' through those files?" Dearborne asked, folding his arms.

"Did you get a good look at that pig," Andy asked walking over to Kenya.

She narrowed her eyes, "Andy there wasn't any pig. Tara was so drunk she drove off the road. She was just makin' up shit to—"

"—Was it brown?" he interrupted. "'Cause I've seen that pig in a doll house."

"Andy, you're drunk… on the job," Dearborne shook his head. "Gimme your badge."

"Now wait, goddammit. I ain't drunk," he exclaimed stepping away from them.

"Gimme your badge, Andy," the sheriff extended his hand.

"No, hell no." Kenya narrowed her eyes again, placing her hands on her hips. Reluctantly, Andy handed the sheriff his badge.

"The gun too," Kenya added. The detective removed his firearm from his holster and handed it to the sheriff.

"Thank you, Andy. Now go home and get sober. I can't count on you if you're on a bender," the sheriff insisted almost apologetically. The detective turned to walk away slowly.

"Mind if I take a look at that report?" Dean asked. Andy shoved the file into his chest and stormed out of the lab.

"I apologize for that, agents." Dearborne said. "Andy's normally the best man on the force." Kenya rolled her eyes.

Mike Spencer cleared his throat, "Okay well, I'm going to the gym. Been spendin' time with my shirt off lately," he patted his belly before removing his rubber gloves. "Y'all be sure to lock up when you're finished." With that, the coroner left. The sheriff tipped his hat at Sam and Dean and then instructed Kenya to follow him out, leaving the brothers alone.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Dean turned to Sam.

"I don't know," he shook his head.

"No seriously, what the fuck?" This was all too weird. "Exorcisms, neurotoxins, and now pigs?" Dean recalled the advice that he had given Tara a month before. He couldn't have expected her to abandon her mother, but he didn't expect her to actually spend over a thousand dollars on fake exorcisms. "There's always a connection, we just gotta figure how… And why." Sam looked down at the corpse on the table. "We need to talk to Tara and her mom."

"No, _I _need to talk to Tara and her mom. I'm droppin' you off at the motel. Get some sleep, Sammy. I mean it," Dean ordered.

Sam nodded obediently, agreeing that a few hours of sleep wouldn't hurt. He covered the body with a sheet, turned off the lights and followed his brother out.

* * *

Dean pulled into the driveway of the Grecian style plantation house and turned off the Impala's engine. He hopped out and walked towards the enormous double doors. As he raised his hand to knock, a bald man with a lazy eye opened the door. "Can I help you, sir?" he asked.

He cleared his throat, taken aback with surprise. "Yeah I'm uh, looking for Tara Thornton. She wouldn't happen to live here by any chance, would she?"

"May I ask your name, sir?" he probed suspiciously.

"Oh c'mon Carl, it's Dean," a tall brunette, in elegant clothes and green eyes came up from behind him beaming. She pushed the man aside. "I'm Maryann," she introduced herself with a smile. "C'mon in out of the heat. I'll get you a drink."

Dean stepped into the foyer. The house was adorned with Grecian statues and ancient art from around the world. "Would you like Carl to take your coat, Dean?" Maryann crooned.

"No thank you," he replied. "How do you know my name?" he asked suspiciously.

"Tara told me all about you in our sessions, Dean." She led him into a sitting room with plush couches and even more ancient tribal art. "Please sit. I'll go get Tara." She practically glided into the next room jovially. Dean stared after her for a moment, before taking in his surroundings. Across the room he noticed an ancient statue that appeared to be a very primitive likeness of a person holding their arms above their head.

He walked over to it, examining it closely. "That's very expensive." Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. Carl appeared behind him, holding a sterling silver tray with a pitcher of lemonade and two chilled glasses.

"Dude," he breathed placing a hand over his chest. "You're like a friggin' ninja. How 'bout letting a guy know you're in the room before you sneak up like that."

"My apologies." He sat the tray down on the coffee table and poured lemonade into both glasses before leaving the room.

Dean straightened his tie and checked his breath. Satisfied, he walked over to a nearby couch and sat down with a glass of lemonade in hand.

"Dean," he turned around at the sound of Tara's voice and was amazed by what he saw. She practically glowed. Her long braids were pinned up in an elegant hairstyle that framed her face. She wore a long halter dress that advertised her pert breasts. Dean stood up and was relieved when she crashed into his arms.

She pulled away and looked up at him. Dean cleared his throat, releasing her from the embrace. "You look good."

"I feel good," she replied with a smile. The two sat down across from each other on different couches. She leaned over and grabbed a glass of lemonade and took a sip. "How ya' been," she asked looking over the rim of her glass.

Remembering his own drink, he finally took a sip. He chose his words carefully, not wanting to reveal much about the torture session that nearly cost him his life. "Busy," he replied, satisfied with his own answer.

"Uh huh," she looked at him skeptically. She set her glass down on the table. "You're here, in a suit. I take it that's not good," she noted. "How did you find me?"

"Your mom," he answered.

"Aw hell," she huffed, leaning back in her seat. "It's embarrassin' enough as it is tellin' the police I paid a swamp witch to perform an exorcism on me and my mama. I'm not about to talk about this with you."

She fiddled with a braid, avoiding eye contact. Dean studied her for a minute. "Why did you do it, Tara?" he asked in earnest.

She looked at him, and a fierce anger clouded her eyes. "My mama was killin' herself. There were times she used to eat her own vomit because she didn't want to waste the alcohol she threw up. Sometimes the phone would ring and I just knew it would be the police, tellin' me that they'd found her dead, passed out in her own filth. I did what I had to do to save her. She might be a spiteful, mean ol' bitch but she's still my mama."

Dean couldn't argue with her. "Okay," he nodded. "Then why did _you_ get an exorcism?"

Tara let out a heavy sigh, laughing to herself. "'Cause the shit actually worked. You saw her. Bitch woke up the next morning makin' ho' cakes. Mama ain't made me ho' cakes since I was in pig tails," her smile faded. "Then Miss Jeanette, she told me I had a demon in me too. And for the most part she was right. There was somethin' in me, a hole so deep that it couldn't be filled with anythin'. Not with booze, or sex. I was angry at everyone and everythin'."

"What did Miss Jeanette do to you that night?" he asked.

Tara explained the witch's ritual, from the spit and Angelica root, to the snake oil that made her vomit. "Then she started chanting in some language I didn't understand. And she was beatin' on this drum. I thought I was gonna die. I found out later the bitch drugged me, made me hallucinate the whole damn thing."

"How did she meet your mother?" Dean asked.

"I don't know… But the night of her exorcism, Mama told me that 'in order to meet the devil we have to meet him at the crossroads. And Miss Jeanette was beyond the crossroads.'" She looked up at him. "I know it's crazy—"

"—Did Miss Jeanette's eyes ever look black or red?" Dean interrupted her.

"No… but I saw, or at least I thought I saw, her eyes turn white in the firelight. But I was hallucinatin', right?" She looked at him expectantly, her eyes full of uncertainty and fear. Dean didn't know how to comfort her. Lilith was in Bon Temps, or at least she was a few weeks ago, _but why?_

"Why didn't you call me?" Dean asked but he already knew the answer.

"Are you serious?" she scoffed. "You left. I had to deal in the only way I knew how. Yeah I fucked up, and fucked up again, but I'm doin' a lot better since I met Maryann. She's taught me so much—"

"—Hey Tara," Dean tore is eyes away from Tara in time to see a staggeringly tall black man with broad shoulder and an even broader smile enter the sitting room. His smile faded at the sight of Dean_. _"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were with your lawyer."

Tara grinned flirtatiously. "No, this isn't my lawyer, this is my—" she paused for a moment, a slight trace of panic appeared then quickly dissipated in a millisecond. "This is Dean. He's an old friend. Dean this is Eggs."

_Eggs? _ "I'm a new friend," he smiled amiably. "Tara when you're done catchin' up, there's somethin' I wanna show you out back."

Dean stood to leave. "We were just finishing up anyway. She's all yours." He stood to leave but then stopped when he reached the entrance to the foyer.

"Actually Eggs, can I just borrow her for one more second." He walked over to the couch and grabbed Tara's hand gently tugging her towards the door. When they were just out of earshot he reached into his pocket.

"I want you to wear this." He slipped a leather banded charm bracelet around her small wrist. She looked down at the bracelet then back up at him confused. "The charms will keep a _real_ demon out."

She examined the bracelet closely. "Did you make this?" she asked, impressed.

"I may have," he grinned.

"It's beautiful," she marveled.

"Don't lose it," he warned her. "Don't even take it off." She nodded. Once he was sure she understood, he turned and walked to the massive double doors. "I'm glad you're doing alright," he smiled before walking into the blazing heat.

Despite Dean's impeccable talent for hiding his emotions, he couldn't help but feel jealous. Of course he didn't expect anything serious with Tara, but the way she was practically swooning over Eggs hit a nerve that he didn't know existed. _The hell kind of a name is Eggs anyway? _ He was so wrapped up in his thoughts as he walked to the Impala that the sound of a woman's voice took him by surprise.

"Leaving so soon?" Dean turned around to see Maryann standing in the doorway.

"Yeah I kinda have to get back to work," Dean insisted.

"I'm sure monsters can wait one afternoon. C'mon inside, take a load off. We're grilling out. I'm making my famous ragin' Cajun burgers."

"Excuse me?" Dean blinked incredulously.

"Oh c'mon Dean, don't kid a kidder. I know what you are. And I thank you for your sacrifice." Dean opened his mouth to speak but she raised a hand to stop him. "Don't worry, Tara didn't tell me a thing. I simply made my own assumptions. I've been around the block a few times and I know a hunter when I see one. Your secret's safe with me." She winked at him.

Dean mulled over the offer. He didn't know if he could stomach another minute of watching Tara ogle Eggs. "Rain check?" Dean offered apologetically. Maryann nodded and slipped back into the house. He got into the Impala and turned on the engine. Dean took one last look at the Grecian mansion before pulling out of the driveway unable to shake the feeling that something was incredibly wrong about that house.


	14. Poison

**Author's Note:**

Work's been a bitch lately. I apologize for the long wait between chapters. I've thought about giving up on this story a few times, but I do take a look at the hits this story gets, so I know people are still reading. I really do appreciate it. Leave me some feedback. Let me know what you think.

* * *

Sam flopped onto the bed on his back and drifted off to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was out for a couple of hours when he suddenly felt a presence in the room. He blinked the sleep away from his eyes and attempted to focus on the large figure that was sitting on the edge of the bed. He sat straight up, and scooted back into the headboard when he recognized who it was.

Sam's eyes darted around the motel room before landing on the vampire. "I'm dreaming again." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Well you might as well enjoy it then," Eric teased, cocking his head to the side.

Sam sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Will your blood ever wear off?" he huffed desperately. "I'm sick and tired of dreaming about you," he looked at the sheriff hoping somehow these words would make him vanish into thin air.

"It's not just the blood," he indicated, his voice barely above a whisper. "You know you have feelings for me."

"Wait what?" Sam wanted to laugh. "I'm not gay," he insisted, angry that his voice was betraying his assertion. Eric leaned in slowly, giving Sam ample time to move or to stop him. He paused, little more than a breath away from Sam's lips. The hunter didn't move. He didn't even breathe. Without warning Eric's lips crashed into his. A groan escaped Sam's throat as the vampire's cool slick tongue explored his mouth. Eric pulled away, cupping Sam's face in his hands.

"You know you like this," he whispered. He gently kissed his way down Sam's neck only stopping to whisper, "and this." Eric pulled away and looked Sam in the eye. "And you know you can't trust Ruby. That's not my blood talking. That's instinct." He heard the flick of Eric's fangs dropping before opening his eyes.

Sam sat up in bed. He picked up his cell phone and noticed that he had two texts from Dean. He stood up and walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains. The sun was setting behind the tree line in the distance. He read the messages as he walked over to his laptop on the small dining table. Dean discovered that Lilith had possessed Nancy Levoir and conducted a ritual on Tara and her mother. The latest text was sent seven minutes ago.

"Getting dinner from Merlotte's. You're eating more than a salad. -D"

He scrolled through his call log, hoping to see any missed calls from Ruby. There were none. He dialed her number for the millionth time and wasn't surprised when it went straight to voicemail. He was beginning to fear the worst. If Lilith was in Bon Temps, then she probably had Ruby and was doing God knows what to her. He ran a hand through his hair and released a heavy sigh. So much was happening so fast. Eric, Ruby, Lilith, Sookie… _Sookie. _

Sam walked over to his laptop and recalled certain elements of the ritual Dean had mentioned in the text. If he couldn't find Ruby and if he didn't have a lead on Lilith, then he could at least figure out how to help his friend. He buried his latest blood induced dream in the back of his mind and began scouring resources for rituals similar to Lilith's "exorcism."

Almost an hour later, Dean entered the room jovially, holding two Styrofoam takeout boxes. "I finally got around to ordering the chicken fried steak," he grinned as he sat the boxes down in front of Sam. "Tell me you got some sleep, and you weren't staring at that thing all damn day," Dean probed, a paternal glare hardening his face.

"I got plenty of rest," Sam sighed. "I also got your text. That so called exorcism was definitely a summoning ritual, and a pretty powerful one." Sam watched as his brother started in on the gravy-covered confection. "I could give you two some time alone," Sam goaded, watching his brother savor the first bite.

Dean chewed greedily not at all miffed by his brother's snide remark. "A summoning ritual for what?"

Sam shook his head and returned his attention to his laptop, "I talked to Bobby. He said judging by the spit and the vomit used in the ritual…" Sam's voice trailed off as he watched his brother put his fork down.

"Dude!"

"… It's a creature of filth. And it needs to latch on to human energy and feed off of it. Like violence, lust, anger, addiction—"

"You mean like Tara's mom's alcoholism," Dean mused. He picked up his fork and continued eating, twirling a piece of steak around in the gravy.

"Right, which apparently wasn't strong enough to make the creature manifest. Whatever was going on inside of Tara was dark enough to summon this thing."

"Bobby got any idea what it is?" he inquired through a mouth full of food.

Sam grimaced in disgust. "No. But he did say the nature of the ritual would make the creature bond to Tara. Y'know, to feed off that malevolent energy."

Dean dropped his fork. "Tara just moved in with this social worker," he revealed gravely. "I think she said her name was Maryann uh… Forester. That's it." Sam looked over his laptop at his brother skeptically. "Something was off about her, okay? The house, all the tribal art, the creepy butler, that freakin' douchey underwear model—"

"What?" Sam interrupted.

"It just seemed wrong," Dean explained defensively. "Too Stepford if you ask me."

Sam spun his laptop around to face Dean. He pulled up her file from the DMV and an article on her in the Chronicle of Philanthropy. "Born in Cape Cod. She travels the country, running a bit of a half-way-house charity for ex-cons and junkies." Dean placed a greasy finger on the track pad, but Sam smacked it away before turning the laptop around.

He shot is brother a glare before returning to his meal. "So she takes in all these violent criminals and addicts and feeds off of that energy. What would Lilith want with something like that?"

"Beats me," he shrugged. "But we should call Cas." Dean rolled his eyes at his brother's suggestion. Cas had forced him to torture Alastair, and in so doing it almost got him killed. He wasn't ready to face the angel, not after what he had made him do. Sam could see the thought plagued his brother, "Look this could be huge. Lilith is here, and she is breaking seals as we speak. We need to call in the cavalry." He hated it when Sam was right.

Dean shoved the box aside and stood up, closing his eyes. "Dear Cas," he cleared his throat before continuing. "We think we have a lead on Lilith and the seals, so uh…" he opened an eye. Sam was watching him with a smug grin. "…Could you help us out?" Dean opened both eyes and waited for a moment. Castiel appeared shortly after, as always standing a little too close for comfort.

"Hello Dean," he greeted the hunter, his voice almost apologetic. "I feared that I wouldn't speak with you again after our last encounter."

Dean turned away ignoring the angel's attempt at sincerity. He refused to pretend to be friendly. "Look as much as I hate to admit it we sort of need your help."

"Anything you wish," the angel's eyes bore into his own as if the request he was about to make was somehow riddled within them. It always made him feel uneasy, but he'd never let Cas know it.

He clenched his jaw and stared back with an intensity he hoped would come off as intimidating. "Lilith, she's summoned something here. We need to know what it is." Sam explained the ritual, making sure to include everything Bobby told him over the phone. At the end of his elucidation, Castiel turned away from the brothers.

Sam and Dean exchanged a confused glance before watching the angel pace the room. Dean watched the angel carefully, noticing the tell tale signs of worry and concern that plagued the angel's face.

"What is it Cas?" Dean asked, annoyed that the tone of his voice had softened in the presence of the angel. Cas stopped pacing the room long enough to glance up at the Winchesters.

"This creature, it's very old and very powerful," the angel explained. "Throughout the ages many different cultures have called her many different things, Kahli, Isis, Gaia, Lilith."

"Lilith? So there's more than one Lilith?" Sam asked.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," the angel replied.

"Well by all means, please enlighten us," Dean huffed as he sat down on his bed.

"Is it a demon?" Sam urged the angel to continue, ignoring Dean's sarcasm.

"No, she's much more powerful than that. She's more or less what you might call a witch. When Lucifer tore out Lilith's soul to torture and mutilate it into the first demon, he left behind a broken, empty vessel. Over the millennia she evolved into this evil creature. What the ancient Greeks once called a Maenad. They believed a Maenad to be the handmaiden of Dionysus, the Horned God."

"Alright," Dean stood up. "So how do we kill this bitch?"

"I don't know," Castiel conceded.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Dean stepped closer to the angel, unsatisfied with his answer.

"No one does. I do believe that this has something to do with the final seal." He looked into Dean's eyes again, as if somehow he knew the hunter could find a way to kill a creature that the hosts of heaven could not.

"Final?" Sam probed. "How many are left?"

"Nine… maybe ten," his eyes finally left Dean's and began to scan the floor.

"The fuck have you dicks been doing?" Dean bellowed.

"The last time we spoke you knew of the corruption abiding in heaven. Angels are separating into factions and our already limited numbers are diminishing," he retorted. Dean turned away. They were down to less than ten seals, and the angels were doing next to nothing to stop it. He walked over to the mini-fridge and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. Before he could take a swig, Sam's phone started vibrating on the table.

Sam quickly grabbed it and answered the phone. "Ruby?" He asked hopefully. Sam's face went rigid with contempt. "Eric," he growled. He grabbed a pen and wrote down an address. "Sure, we're leaving now." Sam hung up and closed his laptop.

Dean walked over to his brother, "So?" he asked expectantly.

"Eric needs us in Dallas immediately," Sam echoed the vampire's voice. "He gave me the address," he handed Dean the slip of paper.

"You're working for a vampire?" Castiel inquired.

Dean pointed to Sam, "Don't look at me. I'm not the one with the 'bond' or whatever." The two packed quickly, Dean making sure to grab the boxes on the table.

As they prepared to leave the angel followed them out of the room. "I will make inquiries in regard to this maenad," he assured the brothers.

"Thanks Cas." The words slipped out before he could catch them. And with a blink the angel was gone. Dean swallowed hard before heading to the Impala. "Come on Sam. Get the lead out."

* * *

They Winchesters entered the swanky vampire hotel carrying their duffle bags and feeling somewhat out of place in their flannel shirts, jeans and biker boots. The lobby was dimly lit, decorated in red and black with a sleek, modern yet elegant feel. A bellboy approached them, "Would you like me to take your bags, sir?"

"No thank you," Sam insisted politely.

"Keep walkin' cupcake," Dean replied sternly as the bellboy opened his mouth to ask him the same question. Sam shot his brother a disapproving glare as the boy scurried off to assist another customer. "What?" Dean asked, feigning shock. The two walked into the lounge where they knew Eric would be waiting.

The sheriff greeted them with a nod. "Just in time for drinks," the vampire mused lazily without bothering to look up at them.

"We'll skip the drinks, Chachi," Dean retorted belligerently.

"Fine," the vampire finally looked up at the brothers. He extended his hand offering them a seat. "Well then, let's get down to business." Reluctantly the two sat down in the armchairs across from the vampire. "Sookie needs help infiltrating the Fellowship of the Sun."

"You mean that crazy anti-vampire church?" Dean asked with a smirk.

"We believe that the church has kidnapped the sheriff of this area, just as they attempted to kidnap Sookie when she arrived earlier tonight," Eric explained.

Sam sat up in his seat. "Is she alright?"

The vampire smiled knowingly, "She's fine, sweetheart. Don't worry. I've already taken care of your room," he handed Sam an envelope with two key cards inside. "Take advantage of room service and the mini-bar but Pay-per-view is on you." The vampire waved a blonde woman over in his direction, "Now if you'll excuse me, it's almost dawn and I'd like to feed before I rest." He shooed the hunters away with a wave of his hand.

The two headed towards the elevator with their duffle bags in tow. When they reached their room, Dean snatched the room key from his brother. "Dude when all this is over, remind me to peel that self righteous, smug grin off that douche's face."

Sam huffed. "Not if I do it first." He followed his brother inside the room. The suite had an excellent view of the Dallas skyline, a flat screen television …and one king sized bed. Dean dropped his bag.

"That son of a bitch."

"Play you for it." Sam held out his fist for yet another Winchester Rock-Paper-Scissors match. Dean looked at his brother reluctantly before holding out own his fist. The two mentally counted 1-2-3. "Seriously, again with the scissors?" Sam sighed. Dean threw his hands up in frustration.

"I'm taking a fucking shower."


	15. Let's Get Out of Here

**Author's Note:**

****WOOT WOOT! I don't know why I'm so excited about posting this chapter but I am. I know, I know it's been a while. I've kept you waiting. I suck, yes. I do. Anyway, here's the latest chapter. Hope you enjoy. Leave a review. Let me know what you think.

* * *

The next morning, Sam met Sookie down in the hotel lounge for brunch. Sam marveled at how beautiful she looked with her hair in loose curls, pinned at the sides, exposing her lovely face. As he approached her, he realized something was bothering the waitress. Her brows were furrowed as she pushed her food around in her plate. "What kind of arrangement do you have with Eric Northman?" she asked before he could take a seat beside her.

The cold tone of her voice caught him off guard. "What? What do you mean?" Sam asked defensively.

She put her fork down and looked up at him from the barstool. "I can't read your mind anymore. I tried to at Fangtasia," she narrowed her eyes. "But something's different."

Sam suddenly felt naked under her scrutiny. The fact that she couldn't read his mind anymore came as both a relief and a mystery. It made him wonder what else Ruby's blood was doing to him. The headaches and the pains persisted, even though he'd taken enough painkillers to knock out a bull elephant. "You're working for Northman, too," he argued, trying to deflect the attention from himself.

"Yeah to save Lafayette. Why are you?" He wanted to be honest with her. He wanted to tell her that Northman forced him to drink his blood, and that he was bad news, and that if she knew what was good for her she'd leave Dallas and never talk to another vampire or hunter ever again. But he'd been around Sookie long enough to know that that wasn't an option. He looked down at his feet, not really sure what to say next. Sookie stood, cupping his chin with her soft warm hands. "What happened to you, Sam?" She forced him to look her in the eye. He felt his mouth go dry as he tried to find the words to tell Sookie the truth.

Before he could speak, he saw Dean getting off the elevator and walking towards them. He approached Sookie from behind. When he saw the look on Sam's face he looked from the telepath then back up to Sam. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked, suddenly feeling like he'd walked in on something he wasn't supposed to see.

"No, course not," Sookie replied with an edge of contempt in her normally sweet voice.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the pair of them but decided not to pursue the issue. "Right… I uhh… got you this." He handed her a gold-banded diamond ring. "They're more likely to believe you're engaged if you actually have an engagement ring."

Sookie slipped it onto her delicate finger before taking a moment to marvel at the fine piece of jewelry. "Where'd you get it?" she asked, looking up at Dean in amazement.

His eyes darted in both directions before he leaned in. "I sort of borrowed it," he answered. "Sam? You're up." He patted his brother on the shoulder, changing the subject.

The younger Winchester took his cue. "Right," he sat his laptop on the bar and pulled up his web browser. "The Newlins are hosting this bible camp at the Fellowship of the Sun compound, the Light of Day institute." Sam pulled up the Fellowship's website, with a picture of Reverend Steve Newlin and his wife Sara.

"God that man's hair is just… wrong and creepy," Dean mumbled. "So I'll check out the compound and his home for Godric."

"And we'll search the church," Sookie got up from the bar and grabbed her purse. The brothers stared at the petite blonde for a moment. "Y'all comin' or what?" She started for the revolving doors. "Dean, I heard that," she called not bothering to turn around.

"What? I didn't say anything," he smiled at Sam before taking off behind her.

When his brother was out of earshot Sam dialed Ruby's phone number. It went straight to voicemail, again. "Ruby, I don't know what the hell you're doing but this isn't funny anymore. I need it." He ended the call, closed his laptop and stuffed it in his satchel. After that little confrontation he wasn't as eager to work with Sookie as Dean was, especially in this state.

* * *

Sam whipped the rental sedan into the Fellowship of the Sun's parking lot. The drive from the hotel to the church had been riddled with side ways glances and awkward silence. Sookie was tired of the unanswered questions and the lies. She wanted to be angry with Sam, and she wanted him to know it, but she couldn't bring herself to feel it. As Sam put the car in park, a bubbly bottle blonde in a pale yellow suit approached the car. "That's Newlin's wife, Sara," Sam explained as he took off his seatbelt.

"Really? She looks kinda like banana puddin'." Sookie took a deep breath. She cursed herself for being so nervous.

Sam must've sensed her anxiety. "I'm here with you. Don't worry. Just let me do all the talking." Sookie nodded and put on a smile.

"Hi! I'm Sara Newlin," the blonde greeted the two with a Texan drawl. "I saw you comin' up the drive so I decided to meet you out front," she beamed.

Sookie returned Sara's courtesy with a big smile of her own, "Oh I already know who you are. You're the most famous person I ever met. I'm Holly and this is my fiancé Mike," Sam extended his hand and smiled, showing those perfect dimples. _No,_ Sookie told herself. _You're supposed to be mad at him._ "You know I just love saying that word, fiancé. As a matter of fact, I love saying it so much I almost don't wanna marry him so I can keep calling him that. But we are… getting married, I mean." Sookie laughed nervously until Sam chimed in.

"We'd love to take a look at the sanctuary, you know, get a feel for the place. We're just looking for a good church to call home," he smiled again looking down at Sookie and draping a long arm over her shoulder. As always he smelled amazing. _No, _she reminded herself.

"Sure c'mon in. I'll introduce you to Steve," she grabbed Sookie by the hand and led the two into the church.

"Oh will you? _The _Reverend Steve Newlin!" Sookie feigned excitement as she led the two up a flight of stairs and down a corridor. "By the way, you're so pretty in person."

"Oh hush now! You're just like cool breeze on a summer day!" she teased as she led them into her husband's office.

"Now I thought I heard visitors!" Newlin stood up from behind his desk and offered his hand to Sam then Sookie.

"Steve this is Mike and Holly and they're thinkin' about gettin' hitched in our church," Sara declared standing behind her husband as he took a seat at his desk.

"We're also looking for a new church to join," Sam lied, looking at Sookie then the reverend.

"Is that so? Well here at the Fellowship of the Sun we welcome all of God's children." He offered them a seat and the two obliged. "Well go on, tell us a little about yourselves."

Sookie's mouth started going a mile a minute, after a while the lies spewed out so casually it felt natural. She found it easy to talk to strangers and could make pleasant conversation with just about anyone. She batted her eyelashes and spun her web with a girlish simper and a sweet southern charm. She didn't realize how long she had been talking until Sam gently placed a hand on her knee. Sookie decided to wrap up her story, "But after relocating to Dallas, we just had to find a new church." She grabbed Sam's hand, "Our former pastor was, kinda iffy."

"He was a homosexual?" the reverend mused.

"Well he might've been, we don't know, but he was a…" Sookie leaned in closer to the Newlins. "…A sympathizer," she whispered, turning her nose up in disgust.

"See that really ticks me off. How can you proclaim to be a man of God if you don't hate those detestable hell beasts? It's just impossible," Newlin exclaimed.

"Our thoughts exactly," Sam chimed in. As he continued talking Sookie decided to read Newlin's mind. He was staring out of the window, his hand on his chin.

_I wonder how that altar is coming along. Can't wait to bring that dead fanger up from the basement and watch him fry…_ When Sam had finished speaking, Steve turned his attention back to them. "Well, why don't we show you the sanctuary? It's just perfect for a wedding." He and his wife led the couple into the sanctuary. Sookie had to admit it was beautiful. The ceilings towered high above their heads, and the late afternoon sun shown so brightly through the wall of glass windows that she had to cover her face.

"I could definitely see you walking down this aisle. We'd love to get married here, Reverend Newlin," Sam declared.

"Please call me Steve," he insisted. A strapping, older bald man approached from behind Newlin. "Ah, Holly, Mike. I'd like you to meet Gabe. He facilitates a few workshops with our Light of Day Institute," he patted Gabe on the back. "We're actually having a lock-in tomorrow night, if y'all wanted to join?" _Look at this fangbangin' whore. They say she can read minds. She probably can, 'cause she sure don't look normal. And they say this bastard has demon blood, abomination._

Sookie turned to Sam, "Well I think we've seen enough of the church to make a final decision. Let's go home and pick a date and we'll get back to you." She grabbed Sam's hand and squeezed as hard as she could. Their cover was blown and if these people could hold a 3,000-year-old vampire, then there's no telling what else they were capable of. "We should probably get going so you can get ready for that lock down." Finally Sam understood. He placed a hand on her waist and gently nudged her towards the door. They both turned to walk away.

"GABE!" Newlin shouted. Before Sam could turn around to defend himself, he was hit over the head with a baseball bat. He was out cold. Sookie screamed as loud as she could and tried to run, but Newlin grabbed her hair.

"Wait! Steve! Don't hurt her!" Sara shouted after them.

"Shut up, you stupid cunt," he grunted. He struggled to pull Sookie down the stairs into the basement.

"No! HELP! Please!" Sookie tried to pull free, but she wasn't strong enough. Newlin shoved her into a fenced in storage area. Gabe followed with Sam draped over his shoulder. He threw him into the cage with her. Sam fell to the floor in a heap, still unconscious.

* * *

Dean didn't feel too comfortable about breaking into the Newlin's home during the day, but it was the only time he knew Sam and Sookie would be distracting them. He disarmed the security system with ease and entered the back door of the expansive family home. "I'm obviously in the wrong line of work," he mumbled to himself as he stared in awe at the spacious state of the art kitchen. He made his way through the mansion; searching for a place the Newlins could store a vampire during the day. Finally he found a flight of stairs that led him down into a basement. He picked the lock on the door and entered the room. His jaw hit the floor. Inside was an arsenal of vampire slaying ass kickery. Silver machetes, silver ninja stars, semiautomatic weapons, rocket launchers and an assortment of pistols, rifles, and revolvers decorated all four walls of the small room. "Good to see Newlin's invoking his second amendment right to kick ass," Dean whispered picking up a shotgun shell with a wooden tip infused on the top. "Well that's nifty," he pocketed a few shells before leaving the room and making his way back up the stairs.

He searched the mansion, finding no sign of Godric. Finally he came across Newlin's home office in the east wing of the house. He began rummaging through drawers and file cabinets in search of anything that could tell him where to find the missing vampire. Finally he came across a leather bound journal in a desk drawer. Dean took a seat behind the desk and began reading.

_Dear Journal,_

_ The Lord has sent me an angel. Today, after the morning service, a small child approached me. What she had to say brought me such joy__. "__Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies, that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger." _

_ Not at all a strange passage for a child to recite, especially in the context of that morning's sermon. The time to act against those filthy abominations was now. They murdered my mother, my baby sister and my father. Who's to stop them from killing us all? They are murderous hell beasts that deserve to be exterminated._

_But what a little bible scholar! Suddenly the child's eyes shown white and a holy light shown about her. She was an angel. And she offered me vengeance, and an army. And it would start with slaying a vampire. A war is coming, a war that will bring the Apocalypse. The child offered me salvation and safety all she asked was that I bring her a boy. A boy with demon blood. _

Dean closed the journal. "Sam…" he whispered. He took out his phone and dialed Sam's number. It went straight to voicemail. "Goddammit, Sam!" It was a trap, it was all a trap. He cursed himself for allowing his brother to walk into it.

He turned on the reverend's computer, luckily it wasn't password protected. He searched his files for anything he could find on what Newlin was planning on doing with this army. Finally he found a folder entitled, "Soldiers of the Sun." When he clicked on it a password field came up. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. Dean was not a computer hacker. He was terrible at guessing passwords. His eyes scanned the office in search of any clues. He saw a picture of his wife on the desk. S-A-R-A. "Access denied." _Shit._ Dean scratched his chin before taking another guess. S-U-N. "Access denied." _Son of a bitch. _ This was a lot harder than it looked. Dean was about to give up; he was at his wits' end. Finally, on a whim, he typed P-U-D-D-I-N-G. "Access granted."

"Well I'll be damned." Dean found a roster for the Light of Day Institute. He scrolled through the list of names until one caught his eye. "Jason Stackhouse?" he read aloud. He found another file, which were the blueprints for some sort of huge altar. "I've said it before and I'll say it again," he mused. "Demons I get. People are just crazy." As he continued searching through the folder, his hand knocked the journal off the desk. An old piece of parchment paper fell onto the floor.

Dean picked it up. The parchment looked old, centuries old. And it was written in some old obscure version of Latin. Dean picked up his phone and decided to call Bobby.

"What?" Bobby answered the phone and as usual he sounded preoccupied. "Hey look, I'm in Steve Newlin's house—" Dean cleared his throat.

"The crazy sumbitch from CNN?" Bobby interrupted.

"Yeah, long story," Dean answered. "Well, I found this manuscript, I don't know what it means. I think it's in Latin, but I can't translate it." Dean placed the parchment on the scanner beside the computer, logged into his e-mail account and sent Bobby the image.

A few seconds later Dean heard Bobby sigh over the phone. "Double-Dean ?"

"The Busty Asian Beauties newsletter has to go somewhere," Dean explained, unashamed. "So?"

"Well from what I can make out, this parchment is old, 800 years at least." Bobby paused, mumbling the Latin and trying to decipher it. "It's some sort of ritual for killing a vampire, but it can only be performed on the morning of the summer solstice. 'And on the dawn of the alignment, death will come to the creature of darkness atop an altar made of Acacia and Elder.'" Bobby continued reading in Latin.

"Bobby, English?"

Bobby suddenly grew quiet on the other end of the phone. "It's a seal. Making a vampire meet the sun on the morning of the summer solstice is a seal."

"Well when's the summer solstice?" Dean asked, getting up from the chair.

"The day after tomorrow," Bobby answered.

_Shit, _Dean thought. He had less than 48 hours to find Sam, Sookie and Godric and stop the Fellowship of the Sun from breaking a seal. "They got Sam, Bobby," Dean confessed. "I read Newlin's journal. He made some sort of deal with Lilith. She gave him an army to start a war on vampires and he's just gotta give her Sam." Dean's voice sounded more anxious than he wanted to admit. He was terrified.

"I'm on my way." Bobby hung up. Dean didn't know what to do. The Newlin compound was over a hundred acres. It would've been impossible for him to search every inch of it alone. _Cas. _

Dean closes his eyes tight. "I need you, Cas. It's Sam… he's missing. And Lilith is going to break a seal soon. I just… I need your help." He opened his eyes at the sound of wings fluttering. Cas was in front of him in an instant, as always his blue eyes piercing through him, searching his soul for the request he was about to make.

"Steve Newlin's made a deal with Lilith. She's going to give him an army if she gets Sam," Dean's voice cracked at the thought. But his eyes remained fixed on Castiel, trying not to appear as helpless as he felt.

"I'll search for Sam," he simply responded. He was back in a blink.

"Aren't you gonna look for him?" Dean asked impatiently.

The angel looked at the hunter in disbelief, almost offended that he doubted him. "I already did." At this, Dean's face softened and for a brief moment the corners of his mouth turned upward, impressed. "I searched everywhere, except for the church. There are Enochian warding sigils all over it. I couldn't enter. More than likely your brother is there."

Dean checked his watch, it was almost four o'clock. Bobby would be in Dallas by tomorrow afternoon. They needed a plan, and the last person Dean wanted was Northman's help. No, he and Bobby would handle this on their own. Again, before he could catch himself the words rolled off of his tongue. "Thanks Cas." With that, the angel was gone.


	16. Detox Just to Retox

**Author's Note:**

****Thanks to WRose for his/her review! (Sorry I didn't check to see which pronoun I should use. I mean no offense.) There's a bit of confusion about TB!Lilith and SPN!Lilith, which I'm leaving a little ambiguous right now for a reason. I wrote the original draft of this story before season 5 of True Blood aired in the States. The main reason why I wanted to complete a new draft was to include a few elements from season 5 and to set up the sequel to this story a little better. In short, don't worry. Things are confusing now, but just keep reading. I already have the next couple of chapters edited and ready to go, so don't expect such a long wait between updates. Thanks for reading! Leave a review!

* * *

Sookie paced back and forth in the small fenced in storage area. She had been awake all night, taking Sam's pulse sporadically, trying to rouse him, but it was to no avail. She checked her wristwatch and let out a heavy sigh when she realized it was almost seven o'clock in the morning. She waited for Bill to come, knowing that he had sensed her fear. Was he in danger? Did he even care? Surely he had to have felt how terrified she was. Suddenly, she could hear Sam stirring. She rushed to his side.

"Sam? Are you alright?" she asked tenderly, trying to help him sit up. Dried blood trailed from the crown of his head down the side of his face. He was losing color.

"I'm fine," he insisted wincing in pain as he touched the top of his head. "What happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"They knew who we were the entire time," Sookie replied. Sam propped himself up against a shelf. He was obviously in a lot of pain. His hair clung to his sweaty face. This couldn't have been from just a head wound. "We need to get you out of here," she insisted. She stood, "Godric! Godric, I know you're down here! Eric Northman sent me, I'm here to rescue you!" Sam groaned. His brain felt like it was throbbing inside of his skull. Sookie turned to him, "I know Godric is down here. I read Newlin's mind. They're gonna make him meet the sun on top of an altar if we don't get to him in time."

Suddenly they heard the basement door open at the top of the stairs. Sookie read his mind, and instantly knew it was Newlin and the giant thug, Gabe. "Good morning, evil hell bound sinners. I trust you slept well?" he asked casually. He stood in front of the cage, beaming with pride.

Sookie lunged at him, "Let us go! Vampires are looking for us. When they realize where we are they'll find you and kill you all," she warned.

"You poor, poor damned soul. They got you all confused with their blood and their lies," he shook his head. "We knew a fangbangin' whore like you would bring a vampire to us. And we're ready for a war, aren't we Gabe?"

"Yes sir," Gabe chimed in from behind Newlin.

"Now," he pulled a chair out from behind him and took a seat. "I'm not the monster the left wing, vampire lovin' media makes me out to be," he smiled. "Just tell us who sent you and we'd be happy to feed you a hot breakfast, and send you on your way."

Sookie considered the offer. She looked at Sam who looked like he was too weak to even move. She had to get him to a doctor. He struggled to his feet. Sookie went to help him, but he kindly rejected her assistance. He walked over to the edge of the cage, staring at Newlin with an anger and intensity that Sookie hadn't witnessed from him before. "You're a hypocrite," he finally said. His voice was so cold it sent a shiver down her spine.

"Am I?" Newlin scoffed. "Said the boy with the demon blood. They told me what you're capable of Sam Winchester." Sookie froze. The reverend had thought this before. _What exactly is he capable of? _Before she could read Newlin's mind again, Sam spoke up.

"'They?' And who exactly is that again?" Sookie noticed that Sam's entire demeanor had changed. He stood tall, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was a side that she had never seen before.

"I know, Sam" Newlin stood, walking towards them. "I know about the seals and the Apocalypse and you. What you've been doing in the dark will come to the light. On the Day of Judgment we must all give an account of our sins. You'll see. And you'll burn in hell for it."

"And what will you say about your sins, _reverend_?" Sam didn't back down, didn't blink. "What would your congregation do if they figured out you were making deals with demons?" Sookie didn't understand how he came to that conclusion so quickly. _Where's he going with this? _

"VAMPIRES MURDERED MY FAMILY!" Newlin shouted. His went eyes wild with anger. Whatever sanity he once had died with his family. "This is justice," he whispered in a cold empty voice. "I think we're more alike than you'd care to admit," he smiled. Sam's face grew weary. His façade was slipping, and she could tell he was growing weaker by the second.

Sookie was utterly confused, but she was certain that they couldn't stay here much longer. Sam needed medical attention and fast. "I'm Sookie Stackhouse," she blurted out. "I'll tell you everything you wanna know, but you have to let us go. Can't you see he needs a doctor?"

Newlin's eyes drifted towards her. He stood in silence, searching her face for something. "Stackhouse? As in Jason Stackhouse's… sister?"

"How do you know my brother? He has nothing to do with this," she contended.

Newlin ignored her and turned to Gabe, "C'mon," he sighed. Before Sookie could respond they were already heading up the stairs.

"Wait!" she called after them. "How do you know my brother?"

* * *

Dean paced the hotel room all night long. It took every fiber in his being to not storm the church by himself. The only thing that stopped him was Bobby's voice in his head. _Don't go in half-cocked, gun's blazing, ready to die, idjit. _He tried sleeping, drinking, eating, but nothing quelled his anxiety. Sam was trapped in a church with fanatical nut bags and a 3,000 year old vampire. Suddenly he heard a knock on the door. He practically ran to it. "Thank God," he sighed when he saw Bobby's face.

Bobby walked in with an armload of books. He shoved them into Dean's chest, and looked around the hotel room. "What's with the one bed?"

"Long story," Dean answered quickly. "Any ideas on how to get into the church?"

"You got me," Bobby shrugged. "I do have news on the Maenad beat, though," he offered.

Dean sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "C'mon Bobby, one problem at a time," he complained.

"Well there's always Cas," Bobby began.

"Again, one problem at a time," he interrupted frustrated that the old man even brought him up.

Bobby paused for a moment, removing his trucker cap to scratch his head. "Well we know it's a seal, we know there are anti-angel sigils covering the joint… demons' gotta be in there. And there's no way of telling who's what without raisin' a little hell."

Dean thought for a moment. "Jason Stackhouse." He grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

"Who?" Bobby called after him, before following Dean out the room.

* * *

Sam looked down at his trembling hands before trying to wipe the sweat from his face. His muscles felt like they were on fire, his vision blurred as he looked over at Sookie who was watching him. A troubled look covered her face. "I'm fine," he lied again. He was on edge and reality was crumbling. He'd gone too long without Ruby's blood. Where was she? What could possibly be keeping her occupied for this long? He suddenly felt cold, shivering uncontrollably. He couldn't hide it anymore, not from Sookie.

She kneeled down beside him, gently placing the back of her hand against his damp forehead. "You're burnin' up," her eyes saturated with tenderness. She caressed his face, cupping his chin in her small soft hands. The feel of her skin against his soothed him. "You have to tell me the truth now, Sam. What happened to you? What did he mean about the demon blood?"

Sam could barely muster the strength to look at her, let alone speak, but he knew he couldn't keep lying to her. Maybe she had read Newlin's mind, already knew what he had to say, but just wanted to hear him say it. Whatever the case, he tried to sit up straight and look her in the eye. "When I was just six months old, a demon broke into our house, fed me his blood, and killed my mother," he began. He wanted to stop there. He wanted that to be the end of it, but the look in her eyes. It wasn't disgust or anger or any of the emotions he would expect from his brother. In that moment he decided to tell her everything. He told her about the other psychic children and being killed in Azazel's battle royale. He told her about Dean's deal to bring him back and then going to hell because of it. He blinked back tears as he continued, "Ruby saved me. She offered me a chance to get revenge. She taught me how to…" he looked away from her, not sure if he should continue.

She placed her hand in is, "It's alright. You can tell me," she whispered softly.

He knew in that moment she would understand. She had drunk Bill's blood, surely she could relate.

He took a deep breath, "She gives me her blood. And now I can kill demons with my mind," he revealed. They were both silent for a long while. Sam wished he knew what she was thinking; because her face gave no tell tale signs of what went on beneath the surface.

She looked at him for a while, using her finger to smooth back a stray hair from his face. "Is that why you're sick? You need demon blood?" As much as he hated to admit it, he nodded. Finally she stood. "You mentioned that Newlin made a deal with demons before. What did you mean?" she asked.

Sam welcomed the subject change, but was confused by it. "Yeah," he grimaced. "I think he might've sold his soul in exchange for revenge. Making deals with demons is never a good idea," he mused.

"But isn't that kinda what you're doing?" she asked.

"No, Ruby's not like other demons. Besides, you drink Bill's blood," he argued.

"Bill's not like most vampires. And I did it to save my life," she corrected.

"I'm saving lives," he said, his tone a little more defensive than he meant it to be.

She turned away from him and changed the subject again. "Bill should've sensed my fear last night."

"Don't worry, my brother's probably looking for us right now," he sighed through another jolt of pain. She walked to the fence, still facing away from him. "What are you doing?"

She waited a moment before answering. "I met this bellboy at the hotel. He's a telepath too. I told him to find Bill and tell him we're trapped in the basement." She found a bottle of water on one of the shelves and knelt down beside him to help him drink. "We'll be out of here soon," she soothed.

* * *

Dean pulled up in front of the Newlin compound with Bobby riding shotgun. "That's over a hundred acres of land. You really expect us to find this kid in all that?" Bobby asked motioning to the wooded obstacle course. They had until morning to stop the Fellowship from breaking the seal. Since there was no driveway, they would have to continue on foot.

Dean hopped out of the Impala, checking the magazine in his pearl handled pistol. "Luke said he saw him come out here with Newlin," he replied. "The bastard can't be far." They walked down the trail for nearly an hour. Jason was nowhere in sight.

"C'mon let's head back, we're runnin' outta daylight out here," Bobby huffed.

"Wait," Dean stopped walking and motioned for Bobby to do the same. "You hear that?" he whispered. Off in the distance, he could hear someone struggling. Dean pulled out his gun, and moved through the underbrush as quietly as possible. When he and Bobby reached a clearing, they found a tall, older man with a Light of Day Institute sweatshirt holding a knife to Jason's throat. Dean emerged from the bushes. "Put the knife down, now!" he ordered, pointing his gun.

The man spun around in surprise. "You cops?" he asked.

Dean looked at Bobby confused as to what to say next, "No… not really," he answered.

The man held Jason in a chokehold and tightened his grip on the knife. "Agent Bonham? The hell are you doin' here?" Jason asked.

"Oh so you know each other?" the man observed. "Fine, I'll kill you first, then I'll finish your fangbangin' slut of a sister." With this, Jason broke free and punched him. He fell to the ground. Jason straddled the man and kept hitting him until his knuckles were bloodied from the contact.

Finally Dean had seen enough. He lifted Jason off of the guy. "Alright Van Damme."

"Don't you ever talk about my sister!" Jason yelled, before spitting on the beaten man. He took a few deep breaths before addressing Dean again. "What the hell are you doing here? And who's he?" he asked looking at Bobby.

"Look Jason, your sister and my brother are trapped in the Fellowship church. We need you to help us get them out," Dean explained.

Jason looked at Dean confused, "But what does the FBI want with Sook?"

Dean hung his head, and he could hear Bobby mutter behind him. "Look I'm not really FBI, Jason. My name is Dean and this is Bobby. Right now we're trying to stop a lot of people from getting hurt, but first you have to help us." He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder, "Can you help us get into the church?" he asked.

Jason looked down at the man who was still bleeding and unconscious on the ground. He stooped down to pick up the knife. "Sure, I'll help."

* * *

Sam lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, sweating and shivering. His muscles ached. His head throbbed. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he could feel Sookie's hand smoothing his hair out of his face, smell her lovely perfume; see the fluorescent lights in her blonde hair. It cast such a lovely glow that for a moment, she looked like an angel. Or at least what he thought an angel should look like. Before he met Castiel, he envisioned that angels looked something like his mother. He remembered the first time he saw a picture of her.

His dad was passed out in a chair, exhausted from a hunt, and the photograph slipped from his hand and fell on the floor. Sam remembered approaching his father cautiously, careful not to stir him. He quickly grabbed the picture and ran into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. That's when he saw her. She wore a blue dress, her long yellow hair flowing past her shoulders as she smiled at the camera. She was holding Dean, who was too busy smiling up at her to notice that his dad had taken a picture. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Sam was only seven or eight then, but he still remembered everything. Her face, her eyes, her smile…

He opened his eyes again, and saw Sookie smiling down at him, her little gap showing between her teeth. "This is all your fault," she whispered. Sam blinked, confused by the accusation laced in such a sweet genial voice. "Your mother is dead because of you, and Jessica…" her voice trailed off as she ran her fingers through his hair. "… And now me. I'm gonna die here, because of you, because you brought this Apocalypse bullshit to my front door. Why didn't you just walk away when you had the chance? Why'd you kiss me?"

Sam closed his eyes, he struggled to block her out, but it was like her voice was inside his head. "This isn't real," he whimpered.

"Oh you better believe it is," he heard another voice say. Eric Northman towered above him, the same smug grin slathered across his pale face, as always. He kneeled down. "She's going to die because everything you touch dies. You can blame it on vampire blood, you can blame it on demon blood, but it's you. You're the real monster Sam Winchester."

Sam shook his head, "No, no I-I'm not a monster. I'm doing this to save my brother—"

"—To save me? Look around Sam! I'm not in hell anymore!" Dean joined in. "I hate to agree with the fanger, Sammy but… he's right." He stood over him, gripping his pearl handled pistol. "Y'know Dad was right too. I am gonna have to kill you." He aimed it at Sam's head, his face hardened. "Right here… right now…"

"SAM! Sam wake up!" Sookie's voice brought him back to reality. She was kneeling beside him, shaking him awake. There were tears streaming down her face. When she finally realized he was conscious, she held him close. "You were, ha-having some sort of fit." She pulled away and looked into his eyes. Before she could say anything the basement door opened. Someone was coming down the stairs. It was Gabe. "Please sir, he needs help, let us go—"

"You and your chicken shit brother think you can make a fool outta me?" he spat, slamming her into a shelf.

Sookie struggled to free herself, but to no avail. His hands wrapped around her throat. "Get your hands off of me!" she gasped for air.

"Oh your own kind not good enough for you, huh? Maybe I should show you what you been missin'?" He threw her to the floor. Sam struggled to sit up, but he was so weak. It was useless. He could hear her scream in terror. The sound stabbed him in his chest. It was true, she was going to die and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn't save anyone, not even his own brother. He leaned his head back against the cold floor and closed his eyes, a tear escaping down the side of his face and into his ear. Suddenly he heard her stop struggling. Fearing the worst he opened his eyes. "Godric don't, it's me," Gabe pleaded. The small vampire snapped his neck like a twig and the giant oaf fell lifeless to the floor.

"Are you alright?" the vampire asked turning his attention to Sookie. She was still shaken and unable to speak. She simply nodded. "You should not have come," he insisted plainly, helping her up to her feet. There was a noise, a loud boom.

"Bill?" Sookie shouted.

"Dean?" Sam murmured.

Godric closed his eyes and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "No…" he answered. "I'm here my child." Eric entered the basement at vamp speed, pausing in awe of the small vampire before him. Eric muttered something in Swedish, and knelt down before him. "You're a fool for sending humans after me," Godric scolded tenderly.

Eric's demeanor was different. He appeared meek, like a small child before their father rather than a thousand year old vampire, Sam noted. "I had no choice. These savages seek to destroy you."

"I am aware of what they had planned," Godric retorted.

Sam began to struggle to sit up; Sookie finally came to her senses and hurried over to help him. "So you knew," he winced. "You knew about the deal? The army? The war?"

Before Godric had time to answer, a siren went off. "Save the humans," he ordered.

"I'm not leaving here without you," Eric protested.

"I can take care of myself," he insisted. "Help them."

Sookie looked up at Eric, "We have to go now!"

Eric didn't break eye contact with the small vampire, who placed a hand on his shoulder. "Go. Spill no blood on your way out," he ordered. With this Eric stood, walked over to Sam and helped him to his feet.

"I can walk," Sam insisted. Eric led the two out of the basement. As they entered the hall, a group of members armed with stakes and silver were guarding the exit.

"Why didn't you bring Bill with you?" Sookie whispered.

Eric didn't bother making eye contact with her. His eyes scanned the area for an alternative exit. "Bill has an irrational attachment to you and it clouds his judgment. He would've killed every man, woman and child in this church to save you."

"And my brother?" Sam grimaced in pain as he leaned against the nearest wall.

A grin tugged at the corners of the Viking's mouth. "Don't worry, I'm sure your white knight is about to storm the castle any minute."

"Godric's your maker isn't he?" Sam asked, ignoring whatever the vampire may have been insinuating.

Finally he turned around to face the pair of them, "Don't use words you don't understand."

"You have a lot of love for him," Sookie observed.

Eric's face grew stoic as he turned around, "Don't use words I don't understand." He started to walk towards the group guarding the entrance.

"Wait!" Sookie whispered.

He turned around, and leaned in close, less than a breath away from her face. "Trust me," he whispered gently into the telepath's ear. He looked up and winked at Sam before turning around and walking towards the group. The two waited there with bated breath afraid of what the vampire might do next. To Sam's surprise, Eric's gait had changed, and he slouched his shoulders a bit.

"Is he doing what I think he's doing?" Sookie asked, looking up at Sam incredulously.

Despite their circumstances, he couldn't help but let a small smile play across his face. Eric's attempt at appearing human was a bit unnerving. Sam noticed that one of the members was lifting a stake behind Eric's back. "Northman!" he bellowed. Sam gathered his strength and hurried towards the vampire, disarming the man by spinning him around and head butting him. Eric quickly dispatched the other men. Sam stood there trying to catch his breath. He scolded himself for head butting the guy, and grimaced in pain. When he looked up, Eric was smiling at him fiendishly.

"My hero," he teased coolly, adjusting his leather jacket.

"Are you two serious? Let's get the hell outta here," Sookie ran up behind them. She grabbed Sam's hand and started for the door. Eric opened it, but closed it quickly.

"The place is surrounded," one of the men on the floor, groaned. "You'll never make it out alive."

Eric grabbed the man by the throat and bared his fangs, "Where's the nearest exit?" he hissed.

"Eric don't!" Sookie shouted.

"There's one through the sanctuary," Sam stated. The three headed in that direction. Sam's strength was waning. He could barely keep up. When Sookie noticed him struggling, she wrapped an arm around his waist.

"We have to hurry!" she shouted, draping his arm over her shoulder.

"Where's the exit?" Eric asked, as they entered the sanctuary.

"The nearest exit takes you straight to hell," Newlin walked onto the stage and stood in front of the podium. Suddenly the entire congregation had them surrounded.

"Let us leave! No one has to die!" Sookie insisted.

"The war has begun, you evil whore of Satan. The Apocalypse is nigh, and the Lord will use His holy light to smite each and every one of you evil hell beasts. Your day of reckoning is here!"

"Newlin," Sam started, "if you don't end this now, people will die. This is bigger than you and your war," he warned.

"The vampire you kidnapped got away. He's bound to send for help," Sookie insisted.

Newlin laughed. "I'm not concerned with Godric. Any vampire will do for our holy bonfire. And we've got one right here," he pointed to Eric.

Sam turned to the sheriff, who was standing between them. Northman looked from the waitress to the hunter then back at Newlin. "I'll be fine," he said matter-of-factly before walking towards the reverend.

"You have no idea what you'll unleash, Newlin. I can help you! Just let us go!"

Newlin cast an annoyed glance at Sam, "Someone please gag him, and grab the girl. But don't harm him. Lilith wants him alive." He wrapped a silver chain around the vampire's neck. "The Lord has provided us with a ram in the bush! All is not lost," he assured his congregation.


	17. Let It Bleed

**Author's Note:**

****Hi guys. Well, the shit hits the fan in this one. Hope you all are still interested. Thanks for reading. I really do appreciate it. Please leave a review to let me know what you think.

* * *

Dean pulled up to the church, parked and turned off the engine. "Okay, now what?" Dean and Bobby both turned to look at Jason who was sitting in the back seat, staring absent-mindedly out of the window.

He noticed the two staring at him. "Oh, wait—you expect me to have a plan to get us all in?" Jason asked incredulously.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah that was kinda the plan." Dean turned around and placed his hands on the steering wheel attempting to calm himself.

"Seriously? This idjit was your ace in the hole?" Bobby sneered.

"Hey man, I'm sittin' right here!" Jason protested. The three exited the Impala and walked around to the trunk. Dean opened her up, revealing the arsenal.

"Holy shit," Jason whispered.

"Well, there's no telling who's a demon… and demons know our faces…" Dean looked at the group of people standing at the entrance of the church. "What do you say? That's about seven?"

"I counted eight," Bobby mused.

"Fuck this, my sister's in there." Jason grabbed a gun from the trunk.

"You just gonna walk up there without a plan?" Bobby interjected.

"Don't need one. Not when I got Kid Glock on my side," he raised his eyebrows before walking away.

"This guy's gonna get himself killed," Bobby looked at Dean worriedly.

"Give him a chance," Dean insisted as he packed a duffle bag full of anti-demon paraphernalia. He closed the trunk and walked over to the hood of the car, watching Jason talk to one of the members holding a crossbow. Finally, Jason waved them over.

"Is this kid for real?" Bobby asked.

"Guess so…" Dean tightened his grip on his sawed off shotgun filled with rock salt. The two walked over cautiously.

"Hey Dean, Bobby… this is Al. He says they got the vampire and the two fang bangers surrounded," Jason smiled at the two as they approached. "Yeah these guys are cadets over at the Light of Day Institute too." Jason slapped Dean on the back and flashed a friendly grin.

"Isn't he a little old?" Al inquired, pointing at Bobby.

"Hey brother, you're never too old to serve the Lord," Jason suggested. "Remember, honesty bro," he said flashing his huge silver ring.

"Dude… honesty," Al said with a smile. "C'mon in, I'll show you where everyone is." The three followed Al into the church.

"Well I'll be damned," Dean muttered incredulously.

"I'll take you guys to Steve," Al said as he started for the doors to the sanctuary.

"Oh no man, we got it from here," Dean insisted, throwing the duffle bag over his shoulder.

"Hey man, where's your honesty ring?" Al asked. Dean looked down at his hand nervously. Before he could answer Jason hit him in the head with the butt of his gun, knocking him unconscious.

"Well don't just stand there, help me move this doughy fucker," Jason grunted, as he stooped down to pick him up.

"You might be a fucktard, but I like your style," Dean said bending over to help. After they hid Al safely in a broom closet, Jason led the hunters to the balcony that looked over into the sanctuary. They crouched behind the railings. Down below, Reverend Newlin was giving a sermon.

"See my friends. Just as thirty pieces of silver betrayed our Savior, just a few silver chains can betray a creature of Satan to the world!" he exclaimed. The sheriff was chained to the altar on the stage.

Dean shook his head, "If these people weren't nut jobs they'd make damn good hunters."

"Hunters are nut jobs," Bobby pointed out.

"Shhh!" Jason quieted the two of them.

Dean watched as a couple of the members brought Sookie and Sam before the altar. He noticed that the vampire did not struggle as the chains seared his skin. "I offer myself in exchange for Godric's freedom… and for the two humans as well."

The reverend walked over to Eric, looking down at him. "That's noble," he commended. "However she's a traitor to her race," he turned to Sookie, "the human race. She hardly deserves mercy. Tie the girl to the altar," he ordered. "She'll burn with you at dawn. As for the boy, he is not to be harmed. He's a living sacrifice."

_A living sacrifice? _ Dean thought. Before he could ask Bobby what the reverend might have meant, Jason started to stand, "Like hell she will!"

Bobby grabbed his wrist, "Get down ya idjit! You can't just go down there guns blazin'. You're gonna get yourself killed."

Jason looked at the old man in earnest, "That's my sister. She's the only family I got left. I'm not gonna let her fry." Dean suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of sympathy for Jason Stackhouse.

He rested a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye, "We will get your sister back. I promise. For now, we just gotta lay low. We got a few hours 'til dawn. We'll figure this thing out. Trust me, we've gotten outta worse scrapes than this." Dean returned his attention to the commotion down below. He sent up a silent prayer, hoping this time he'd be right.

* * *

_A living sacrifice? _Sam thought. The words plagued his mind as one of the members shoved him to the floor. He was at his breaking point. His body was weak, his mind frail. He was barely holding onto reality. Suddenly he heard a voice. "Newlin, you've pushed us too far." Sam struggled to his feet and turned around. A group of vampires had entered the church. "You wanted a war, well you've got one," the tall vampire strolled down the aisle in cowboy boots and a large hat. "War comes with all kinds of causalities… including your family."

"Murderers!" Newlin shouted. The reverend began chanting something in Latin. Sam couldn't make out what he was saying. _Is that… is he summoning something?_ Clouds of black smoke shattered through the glass windows and entered the sanctuary.

Sam flung himself on top of Sookie shielding her from the falling glass. "What is that?" she shouted.

"Demons," he said quietly. He stood up slowly, reaching for the bone-handled knife that was strapped to his leg. He helped the telepath to her feet. "Go," he demanded.

"I'm not leaving without you and Eric," she insisted.

Sam didn't have time for this. He looked at her coldly, "Get Eric and get out of here now," he bellowed. Sookie jumped back, astonished at how angry he was, but did as she was told. The cloud of demons entered the members of the congregation and began fighting off the vampires. This was the army Lilith had promised Newlin. The reverend was in over his head.

Sam noticed one of the possessed members trying to attack Sookie as she attempted to unchain Eric. Sam quickly crept up behind the demon, covered his mouth and slit its throat. Sam's pulse quickened at the sight of the blood spraying everywhere. He watched it drip from knife, touching the blade with his finger and slowly bringing it to his lips. The taste excited him. He stooped down beside the demon and proceeded to drink heartily. The rush of the warm blood flowing into his mouth and down his throat quelled every ache, every pain. He felt himself getting stronger. His senses sharpened. He could hear someone firing a gunshot… two gunshots. _Dean. _He was here. Sam didn't bother stopping. If he wanted to save everyone in the church, he knew what he had to do.

Another demon came up behind him, and pulled him off of the body. Sam punched the man. He had had enough. He was strong now. He raised his hand and closed his eyes. It was just like riding a bike. There were well over a hundred demons in the sanctuary, but he managed to exorcise all of them almost instantly. The smoke finally cleared. Members of the congregation, those who weren't slaughtered by vampires, were struggling to their feet.

"You monster!" Newlin shouts from behind them. "You're no better than a filthy vampire. You're one of them…" he shrieks in terror. Eric grabs the reverend by the throat.

"And you use an army of demons to do your bidding. I wouldn't go pointing fingers about who's the monster around here," the sheriff mused. He bared his fangs, ready to attack.

"Wait," everyone turned to see Godric standing on top of the balcony. In a blink he was standing beside Eric. "There has been enough blood spilt on his account." Eric released him.

"You think we are afraid to die for our cause?" He looked up at Eric, "Martyr us. Martyr us before our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ."

"I'm older than your Jesus," Godric explained. "I would've liked to meet him," he turned to the congregation. "Do any of you want to die because of this man's madness?" The people looked around wearily. "Go home," Godric insisted. "It is over." People dropped their stakes and their chains and began to leave.

"Oh thank God," Sookie sighed.

Sam turned to her, wiping the blood away from his lips. "Are you alright?" She looked up at him and in that instant Sam knew that she was frightened of him. He couldn't blame her.

He turned away, and as the crowd cleared, he saw Bobby and Dean walking towards them. Sam attempted to wipe the rest of the blood from his face but it was no use. He could tell by the look in his brother's eyes that he saw everything. Dean's face didn't look angry, but wary, hopeless. Somehow, that felt so much worse.

"Sammy…"

* * *

Dean didn't quite know what to say back at the church. He didn't know what to say because he wasn't sure what he saw. _Was Sam drinking blood? Demon's blood? _He was too afraid to ask the question aloud. Too afraid to hear Bobby's answer. He remained silent on the drive to Godric's lair. He was thankful that Sam decided to ride with Northman and the telepath. When they arrived at Godric's nest, there were cars lined up the driveway. The sleek, sophisticated Bauhaus stylized home rested in a wealthy suburb of Dallas. Dean's Impala looked out of place compared to all the imported vehicles in the drive.

Dean grabbed a stake from the back seat. "You sure you oughtta bring that inside?" Bobby asked.

"Seriously? You expect me to walk into a nest naked?" Dean put the stake in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He did feel silly wearing the coat on a midsummer night in Dallas, but he didn't feel right without it. As they walked inside, they received all sorts of glances from the vamps in the house. It's like they all knew they were hunters. Dean nodded casually as he made his way through the house. "You feelin' a little underdressed?" Dean joked as he looked at Godric's houseguests.

"Why the hell are we here again?" Bobby asked, staring at a fang banger walking by with a white corset dress.

"Eric said he needed to see me before we head back to Bon Temps," Dean answered. As he finished his sentence, Dean spotted the tall Viking making his way towards them.

"The sheriff would like to have a word," Eric insisted. Dean hesitated for a moment. If Eric was here then so was Sam, and he wasn't quite sure if he could look at Sam at the moment. Northman must have sensed the hunter's apprehension. "Don't worry, he just wants to have a word with you… alone," he explained, casting a nonchalant glance at Bobby.

"Just make it quick," Bobby said, glaring up at the vampire. Dean rested a hand on his shoulder before leaving the seasoned hunter in a room full of vampires. He avoided making eye contact with the vamps, making sure to stare at the back of Eric Northman's blonde head as they made their way through the house. Finally they crossed the threshold of a dimly lit living room area. The small vampire Godric was seated in a lounge chair, being addressed by a long line of vampires. When he noticed Eric and Dean standing in the doorway, he stood.

"Leave us," he ordered. Eric stood at the small vampire's side. "You too, Eric."

The Viking muttered something in Swedish to the sheriff, looking down at the floor not making eye contact. _This must be his maker, _he deduced. "I can take care of myself. Besides, I have a feeling Dean means me no harm," he looked over at the hunter, and flashed a genuine smile.

"You heard the man, Zoolander," Dean quipped. Eric growled as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Please, Mr. Winchester, have a seat," the vampire gestured to the lounge behind him.

"No thanks I prefer to stand." Dean didn't like being alone in a room with a three thousand year old vampire any more than Eric liked his maker being alone in a room with damned good hunter.

"You don't trust me," the vampire observed. "I can understand why. Me, my kind, we are frightening."

Dean gave the small vampire a look. He didn't look frightening. "Trust me, I've seen worse," he mused.

Godric smiled, "I'm sure you have. Tell me, hunter, do you love your brother? Even if he is a monster?" The question caught him off guard. So it wasn't a nightmare. He really did see Sam drinking demon blood. Bobby wasn't dumb enough to mention it too soon. Dean tried not to let the question get to him… the word… _monster._ But it was impossible. It pierced through the chink in his armor and staked him right in the heart. "I've offended you, I do apologize. I sometimes forget my manners in such delicate circumstances."

Dean could tell the vampire meant no offense. He avoided the question. "So you saw it too, huh? What he did? My brother…" his jaw clenched. Out of everything Dean ever had to be disappointed about in life, this took the cake. Sammy, _his _Sammy. The one he could always depend on to be right and good. Sure the kid wasn't a saint, but how could he be capable of this? He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, the old lump bobbing in his throat. He swallowed hard, forcing it back down, blinking away the tears.

"You still love him," Godric smiled. "And where there is love, there is hope."

Dean looked over at the small creature standing before him. "Look you can stow the whole touchy feely self-help bullshit. I don't want it and I don't need it."

"I suppose you wouldn't," he remarked. "The church, they didn't kidnap me," he changed the subject.

Dean blinked incredulously, "What do you mean?"

The vampire chuckled to himself, "I am three thousand years old, you think that a group of fanatics could take me against my will?" Dean considered the thought. "I could've slaughtered them in minutes."

"Why didn't you? I mean did you know about the seal?"

"I did. I just wanted all of it to be over. I've walked this earth for millennia. I have committed countless sins, for which I have never atoned—"

"You _wanted_ to die?" Dean asked. "I mean if you knew about the seal, what it would do, then why did you do it?"

"It was foolish I admit. I thought somehow it would redeem me. Finally my death, my true death, could mean something." The vampire turned away, walked to his lounge chair. "But the strangest thing kept me from going through with it. Eric. My greatest and most terrible creation. If I died in that way, he would never understand. He would be furious, he would be vengeful. He'd slaughter that entire church, and then what would that do? What would it prove? In my death, I would've created a monster."

Dean understood. He didn't want to admit it, but he understood. He had created the monster. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew in his heart that he had a hand in making Sam what he is. Going to hell meant saving his brother's life, but it also meant fueling his brother's revenge. Driving him into a demon's web of lies. It was a tough decision, one that he would make again in a heartbeat, but one that he would always hate himself for making.

"I spent a thousand years with Eric. Teaching him, loving him, fighting alongside him. The bond we share is one that surpasses that of maker and progeny. He is my father, my brother and my son. And though he is damned, I still cannot help but feel like he has redeemed me. I'll ask you again, hunter. Do you love your brother? Even if he is a monster?"

"Yes, yes I do," he admitted. It was the first time in his life that he had said it aloud, but it didn't make it any less true.

"Then that is enough." He stood, "you may go, or stay as long as you wish. You are always welcome here in Dallas." Dean nodded curtly and walked out of the door. _Was it enough? _ He considered the vampire's words. Sam was his brother, the only family he had left, and the only person he cared for. If this was how Godric felt about Eric, then he knew he couldn't hate Sam for what he did. Sure he was angry, mad as hell, but he did love him. _But was it enough?_

* * *

Sam stood alone at the party, staring out of a floor to ceiling glass window into the starry night, lost in his own thoughts. _I shouldn't have lost control. Not in front of her… not in front of Dean, _he thought as he took a sip from his small glass of whiskey. He didn't even notice when Sookie approached him. "How are you?" she asked. Sam looked down at her, worry flooding her big brown eyes.

"Better," he answered trying to sound calm. He was still uneasy about what he did in front of everyone. He took another sip as he stared out the window again. "You're afraid of me now, aren't you?"

She shook her head, "No. I think I've been around vampires long enough to not be squeamish about blood." She tried to smile, but Sam could see right through it. "It's different though Sam. You gotta feel it. I mean I felt it. There was so much dark energy."

"You drink Bill's blood and I'm sure he drinks yours," he brought it up again, in a hushed defensive voice. It was the only argument he had, and he was tired of making it.

"Well yeah, but…" her voice trailed off.

"—But vampires aren't Satan's children, demons are," Northman interrupted. "So of course it's going to be different. We drink blood for life," he paused looking down at Sookie lasciviously. "What do you drink the blood for?" Sam clenched his fists. He didn't have to explain himself, especially to Eric. The vampire simply smiled at the hunter's frustration. "Speak of the devil," he mused. Sam turned around and saw Ruby walk into the nest. A wave of relief washed over him, and then anger.

He set the glass down and rushed to her, "What are you doing here? Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you for days."

"Calm your tits, Sam. I've been busy, y'know, tracking down Lilith and her new partner in crime," Ruby explained. Her tone was too chipper. He wanted to carve the smile off of her face.

He could've strangled her to death right there on the spot. "I nearly died, trapped in a basement, Ruby. You mean to tell me you couldn't pick up your phone—"

"No I couldn't! I told you I was deep, deep undercover, okay? I'm here now so do you wanna kick this thing in the ass or not?" She looked up at him with those wild brown eyes. For a second he wished he was Sookie. He wished he had the strength to read her mind. After all this time he still didn't understand why she was eager to help. He trusted Ruby and was thankful that she was on his side, but he also knew what she was. He hated himself for what he was doing with her in the dark, and for being a freak. But he had to do it. He tried to push his doubts aside for the moment.

"We already know it's a Maenad, no thanks to you. And we gotta lead on who it might be."

"Maryann Forester," she stated. "Well did you figure out how to kill her?" She answered her own question, "Nope, because you've been here in Dallas when I told you Bon Temps—"

"We had to work a job for Northman, but it's done and we're free now," Sam insisted.

"We? So Dean's tagging along too?" she asked picking up a glass of champagne from a platter left on a nearby table. Sam didn't want to think about it. He knew in his heart that Dean would never approve of him drinking her blood. But it needed to be done.

"No… it's just gonna be you and me on this one," he sighed.

She patted him on the shoulder, "Well buck up. We're down to the final seal and you're gonn—"

"-Wait. We only have one more seal left? Where the hell are the angels?"

"I don't know, screwing the pooch or doing God knows what. It's up to us now Sam. We've got to find Maryann, we've got to kill Lilith, and we have to strike hard and fast right now." She grabbed his chin and looked him in the eye, "Are you willing to do what it takes when the time comes?"

Sam scanned the crowd to see if Dean was anywhere around. He wanted to talk to him before he made any final decisions. He needed to know where they stood. He knew his brother was upset. Would Dean ever forgive him for the lies? "Don't worry about Dean. I'm sure you two will work things out. You always do."

Sam nodded. "Yeah… you're right. We should probably hit the road." He followed behind her out the door. Before he left he turned to look at Sookie. She was talking to Northman and her boyfriend, Bill. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. In that moment he decided that when this was all over he would walk away, and never speak to her again. Though it was a delusion it didn't make it any less true. _Everything you touch dies._

"You coming or not, Sam?" Ruby called after him. With that he followed her to her car.


	18. Enough

**Author's Note:**

No note. Just read and review. Thanks!

* * *

Dean walked into the main hall, where he had left Bobby beside the fireplace. He stood there for a while, contemplating Godric's advice. What Sam did was inexcusable, but could he ever bring himself to forgive his brother?"So what did the old vamper say?" Bobby quizzed, snapping Dean out of his train of thought.

He shook his head, "Nothing. He just wanted to know about our past crimes against vampires or something like that. It's nothing to worry about." He lied, and he was surprised at how fast he came up with it.

Bobby looked at him skeptically, "Well we oughtta find Sam so we can get the hell outta here," he looked around in disgust. Even though the VRA was in legislation, the old hunter still felt uneasy in a nest full of vamps.

Dean looked at the old man. _Yes I wanna find Sam. I want to tell him it's okay. That he's my brother. We're family. And if we can't hold onto that, then what was the point? _"No," he lied again. "Let's just hit the road." As the two started for the door, Sookie was making her way towards them.

"Dean wait!" she called to them. "Sam's gone, he's left with one of those things. The demon girl," she revealed. Dean didn't want to think about it.

He gently pushed her to the side and continued for the door. "Yeah, he does that," he sighed. His voice was defeated. Dean was tired. After years and years of protecting his little brother, he just needed a break. He had enough on his plate right now, and if he could somehow carve Sam out, then maybe he had a chance at stopping this whole thing. Sammy was his greatest strength, but he was also his greatest weakness. Yes he loved him, _but was it enough? _

Suddenly Bobby grabbed Dean and spun him around, "Now that is it!" he said through gritted teeth. "I have watched you boys fight and die for each other damn near your whole lives. And you just want to give that up because he made a mistake?"

"It's demon blood, Bobby! This isn't like wrecking the car or leaving the iron on. He lied to me! And if I can't trust him then who the hell am I supposed to trust?"

"Oh poor pitiful you," Bobby retorted. "You wanna throw in the towel because your feelings are hurt. You think family is supposed to make you feel good? They're supposed to make you miserable, that's why they're your family!" He grabbed Dean by the lapels of his jacket. A hush suddenly fell over the house as the attention turned to the two hunters in the room. "I know that what he did is terrible. I'm mad at him for it too. But you can't. I won't let you let your sorry ass feelings come between you and your brother. Now get your head out of your ass AND HELP HIM, YA IDJIT." With this, Bobby released him and shoved him back a few feet.

Dean was lucky that he had a nearby table to fall back on, or he would've lost his footing and fell to the floor. Bobby was right. Godric was right. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by another voice. He turned to see who it was. _Luke? _He heard Jason echo his thought aloud.

"Luke? Man what are you doin' here?" he approached him with genuine concern.

"Get the hell outta my way Stackhouse," he responded coldly. Jason hesitated, "Leave!" he yelled. He turned to everyone in the room. "My name is Luke, and I have a message from Reverend Steve Newlin." The young man opened his coat, revealing a makeshift bomb with wooden bullets and silver shrapnel. Before Dean had time to react—BOOM.

* * *

"Hey Dean, Dean—C'mon brother wake up!" Dean groaned in agony as he opened his eyes. Jason was kneeling down beside him. Dust and debris littered the once sleek and pristine home. He tried to sit up, but felt a sharp pain in his side. "Hey don't move, brother," Jason warned. "We need a doctor over here! Somebody!"

Dean attempted to look down at his right side. The stake he had put in his jacket pocket had gone through his torso and was coming out the other side. The sight of the injury sent a jolt of pain throughout his body and he tried to gasp for air. Upon further inspection, he realized he was laying in a pool of his own blood. "Bobby!" he called, his voice was too hoarse though.

"Don't worry Bubba, he's safe," Jason assured him.

"Go check on him," Dean insisted. Jason walked over to Bobby and tried to rouse him.

"Hey—Hey… You okay?" he shouted.

"I'm unconscious ya idjit, I ain't deaf," he grunted as Jason helped him to his feet. "Dean?" Bobby rushed to his side. "Go get help!" he shouted at Jason. Dean couldn't respond. His entire body felt cold. He felt himself drifting away…

* * *

When Dean woke up he was sitting on a dock at a lake. The water and the air were so calm and pristine. He looked down at his side. The wound was no longer there. His eyes then fell upon the old cooler that he and Sam kept in the backseat of the car. He opened it and was relieved to find a few cold beers inside. He smiled and opened one, as he stared out at the lake. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up. "Cas?" He looked around, "Is this… am I dead?"

"No," the angel replied matter-of-factly. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay, well talk," Dean took a swig of beer.

"We can't talk here. I'm afraid it isn't safe," the angel looked down at him. For the first time in his months of knowing Cas, he saw fear in his eyes.

"What can be safer than inside my head?" Dean asked, standing up.

The angel didn't reply. "Meet me here," he handed Dean a piece of paper. It was address in Shreveport. When Dean looked up, Cas was gone.

* * *

Dean slowly opened his eyes. He was laying in a bed… but it wasn't a hospital bed. His eyes stayed glued on the ceiling as he tried to figure out where he was and more importantly, how he was still alive. He removed the comforter, and climbed out of bed, surprised that he was able to walk. He immediately recognized the hotel room he and Sam had checked into days before. He walked into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. He lifted up his shirt, and was worried to see that there wasn't even a scar from where he'd fallen on his own stake. Had it all been a dream? He heard someone enter the hotel room. "Sam?" he called.

"Nope, just me…" Bobby answered. "I come bearing gifts," he sat a bucket of chicken down over on the coffee table.

"Where's Sam?" he asked as he made his way over to the food.

"He's probably in Bon Temps. Been tryin' to call him but he hasn't been answering his cell phone." He studied Dean for a beat, "How you feelin' anyway?"

Dean grabbed a drumstick from the bucket and took a bite, "I feel fantastic," he said through a mouth full of chicken. "Which is… unsettling to say the least." To be honest, he wasn't just being sarcastic. Dean felt better than fantastic, he felt incredible. There was none of the usual aches and pains from injuries on the job. His muscles felt loose yet taut at the same time. His senses felt a little heightened as well. "This chicken, oh my god," he mused as he plowed through another piece. This time a breast. "It's delightful. It tastes like life itself. Here…" he handed Bobby a leg.

"Yeah… about that," Bobby started, taking off his trucker cap and scratching his bald spot. The older hunter looked at him trying to explain.

Dean stopped chewing. "You—You mean Cas didn't do this?" Bobby looked at him apologetically. "I'm high aren't I?" Dean spat out the chicken. "You let a vampire bleed in me?" he yelled.

"You were dying what else was I supposed to do?" Bobby retorted.

"Which one was it?" Dean paced the room, "Huh? Godric?" He hoped it was Godric. He prayed it was Godric.

"The tall, crazy one…" Bobby admitted.

"God dammit, Bobby," Dean sighed. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Don't," Bobby started. "Don't you dare get self-righteous with me. Not you, of all people. I didn't make a deal with a demon, to save your sorry hide. If you hadn't brought the damn stake in there none of this would've happened."

Bobby was right. Dean paused for a moment, allowing a rush of gratitude and adoration to fill his chest before he exhaled. "Thanks Bobby," he whispered.

"That's what family's for," he slapped him on the back," idjit."

Dean smiled for a moment, then reality set in. "Sam…" he started. "We gotta get to Bon Temps. What time is it?"

Bobby looked at his watch, "Quarter passed noon," he replied.

Dean quickly started packing. "We need to leave, but we gotta make a stop in Shreveport first. Cas had something to tell me. It seemed important." Dean looked up at Bobby who was watching him pack. He paused, dropping his clothes on the bed. "What?"

"Finding Sam… it's about getting him back, not pushing him away." Dean pondered the old man's words. This was Bobby's kindhearted way of saying _don't be John. _He wanted to forgive his brother, he wanted to have him back, but he was still angry. Still disappointed. He wondered if he would ever trust Sam again.

"We need to go," he resumed packing.

* * *

"Wow, the Atrium huh? Honeymoon suite. You really know how to impress a girl," Ruby smiled as they entered the swanky hotel room.

Sam laid his duffle bag down on the bed. "It's not for you," he replied coldly, "It's to throw Dean off our trail."

"Ouch…" Ruby feigned offense. "I mean you drove past Bon Temps all the way to Monroe… I think that's pretty out of the way if you ask me."

Sam was annoyed. He hated the way she talked, the way she smelled, and at times even the way she looked. There was only one reason Sam kept Ruby around. "Well no one asked you," he responded tersely before pushing her onto the bed. He grabbed the knife tucked inside of her boot and slit her wrist. She moaned as he suckled from the wound.

She caressed his hair, "Your appetite's getting bigger," she breathed. Sam sat up and wiped the blood from his lips. He scooted off her and sat on the edge of the bed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively.

She shook her head. "It doesn't mean anything. You're just getting stronger," she crawled on her hands and knees towards him and nuzzled into his shoulder.

"Stop it," he didn't even bother looking at her. He was disgusted with himself, with her. The people he cared about now recoiled at his presence. Dean wasn't talking to him, and Sookie. _Well, she's better off without me,_ he thought.

"This isn't about that blonde piece of swamp trash is it?" Ruby asked, laying down and staring up at him.

"Don't talk about her like that," Sam answered quickly.

She sat up, "You can't afford to get distracted right now, Sam. The end of the world is at stake, and you need to—"

"-I know what I need to do," he shouted. He took a deep breath to calm himself before repeating the words she had told him several weeks before, "Kill Lilith… cut the head off the snake."

"And to do that you'll need more blood… well more than I can give you at least," she stood up. Sam gave her a confused looked. "There's plenty more in Bon Temps. The whole town's possessed."

So not only were they down to the last seal, but an entire town was possessed. Sookie was on her way home. She was in danger. "We need to go now," he stood up and hurried for the door.

"Hold on, you don't expect to just walk right into town without a plan. You're going to get yourself killed," she got off the bed and raced to the door.

"Ruby, get the hell outta my way," he barked.

"No, I'm not gonna let you kill yourself for some bitch you barely even know," he started to shove her out of the way but she spoke up, "Maryann has to be possessed by Lilith to break the final seal!"

Sam stopped short, "What?"

"The final seal can only be broken when Lilith inhabits her one true vessel. It's also when Lilith and Maryann are vulnerable. If we play our cards right, and don't barge in like ass-clowns we can win this thing. I know we can. You just have to trust me."

Did he have another choice? He ran a hand through his hair. "What do I have to do?"

Ruby smiled as she walked over to him, cupping his face in her hands. "You just have to be patient, be focused, and do exactly as I say."

* * *

"You sure this is the place?" Bobby asked as they stood outside of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse just outside of Shreveport.

Dean checked the magazine in his pistol before answering. "This is the address Cas gave me." It was the late afternoon, and the summer heat was stifling. They circled the building once before going in through a back entrance. When they arrived inside the place look like a nuke had gone off. "Cas?" Dean whispered as he rounded a corner. He and Bobby separated, exploring the warehouse for any sign of the angel.

When they had met back up in the center of the mess Dean shrugged, "What do you think?"

Bobby shook his head in disbelief, "Looks like angel on angel violence if you ask me. But why?"

Dean looked around at the damage. This was bad. As he turned to leave he heard a noise. "You hear that?" he turned to Bobby. "It sounded—" a low, muffled groan interrupted his sentence. "Help me lift this." Dean bent over and lifted a slate of sheet metal. There underneath the debris, was Castiel. "Cas," Dean released a sigh of relief.

"Castiel's gone," the angel said. Dean looked at Bobby incredulously.

"Gone? Gone where?" he asked.

"The angels th-they took him," he answered trying to struggle to his feet.

"Woah, woah, easy slick," Dean warned offering to help him up. "What's your name?"

"Jimmy. M-my name is Jimmy Novak."

Dean finally understood. "You're the guy Cas is possessing?" He put his gun away and scratched his head warily. "What did he have to tell me?" If it was important enough that he had to get carted away to heaven kicking and screaming then it must have been big.

"I-I don't know," Jimmy stammered.

"Where are you from?" Bobby interrupted.

"Pontiac, Illinois," he answered. "Look, I really just want to get back to my family, please. I'm tired and—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Dean replied sympathetically.

"Wait just a minute," Bobby started. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Dean frowned. "The guy's been away from his family for over a year. I say we get him on the first bus to Pontiac, ASAP."

"I'm all for a happy family reunion, but this guy's a vessel. The demons would kill to get their hands on him to see what makes him tick," Bobby argued.

"But I don't know anything!" Jimmy interjected desperately.

Dean nodded reluctantly. "He's right. You're safer with us for now. But we'll get you back to your family, I promise."

Jimmy placed his hands on his hips and began pacing the floor. "How long?" he looked from Dean to Bobby.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Bobby sighed. He then turned to Dean. "It's time you set aside whatever domestic dispute you got going on with Sam. Whatever's cookin' upstairs ain't smellin' right, and we need all the help we can get." Bobby was right. They didn't have time to argue with Jimmy. They needed Sam, but was he able to fight? Did Dean even want him to fight? Dean still wasn't sure. Either way they needed to find his brother, and fast.

The hunters took Jimmy to a nearby diner. While the vessel greedily took the first bite out of his hamburger, Dean tried to find Sam. He flipped open his phone and dialed the customer service number for one of Sam's credit cards. "Hi, I'm Lancil Kafka. Social is 897-99-5555. Yeah, my credit card isn't in my wallet. I think my nephew might've stolen it. He can be quite a handful. Can you tell me if there were any charges made in the last 24 hours?" He took out a pen and wrote on one of Jimmy's napkins. "The Atrium for a honeymoon suite in Monroe, Louisiana? No, there's no need to report anything to the police. Yeah, kids do the darnedest things. Thanks. Okay, bye now." He flipped his phone shut.

Bobby looked up from his chicken Caesar salad. "How'd you know which credit card and alias he'd use?"

Dean put his phone in his pocket. "You kidding me? I know everything about that kid." He got up from the table. "Keep an eye on angel eyes here, would ya?" He patted Jimmy on the shoulder before walking out of the diner.

Dean arrived in Monroe over an hour later. He cased the building first, walking up and down the corridors, searching for the honeymoon suite. He finally made it to the top floor of the building. As he walked down the hall he heard Ruby's voice. He stealthily hid behind a pillar next to the ice machine in the hallway. She looked around suspiciously before opening the door to room 213.

Dean still found it hard to believe. His brother was in that room. He was drinking her blood, and doing God knows what else with a _demon. _The kind of thing that killed their mother, and their father, and _him. _He wanted to cry, to kick and scream, but he couldn't. There would be no solace for him. Not until he slit the hell bitch's throat. He went to the door and pulled out his gun before grabbing the doorknob and slowly turning it.

"Don't move!" he shouted. Ruby stood beside the bed with her hands in the air. "Where is he you evil bitch?" he growled.

"You know what? I am sick of you calling me bitch," she rolled her eyes. "Put that thing down before you hurt yourself big boy." Suddenly the bathroom door opened, and Sam stepped out.

"Dean…" He looked both relieved and surprised that he was there. "Let's talk about this," he cautioned, raising his hands to show that he was unarmed.

"We can talk when she's dead," Dean snarled through gritted teeth. He lunged at the demon, but Sam jumped in front of him.

"Dean, wait. Don't, we need her!" he exclaimed. "Ruby get outta here." The demon quickly ran for the door and exited.

Dean stood there for a moment, staring at his brother. He looked a lot better than he did when he was in the church, but he was still worse for the wear. His eyes were darker. The innocence that lingered in them was suddenly lost. Dean couldn't tell if it was a subconscious observation or if it was actually true. "Look what she's done to you," he started. He was fighting back tears. "She's poisoned you, Sam! She up and vanishes weeks at time. She leaves you crackin' out for another hit!"

"She was looking for Lilith," Sam retorted.

Dean scoffed. "That is French for manipulating your ass ten ways from Sunday."

Sam put his hand up defensively. "You're wrong, Dean."

He shook his head. Sam was so lost. He was so confused. Wrapped up and twisted in every single one of her lies. He couldn't blame him for it. He believed that Ruby just wanted to help too. But somewhere a line had been crossed and somehow Sam couldn't see it. It was worse than he thought. "Sam you're lying to yourself. I just want you to be okay. You would do the same for me and you know you would."

Sam sighed. "Just listen for a second. We got a lead on Maryann _and _Lilith. Come with us, Dean. We'll do this together," he begged.

Dean nodded. "That sounds great," he breathed. "As long as it's just you and me. The demon bitch is a deal breaker. You kiss her goodbye and we can go right now." He felt his voice trembling. He tried to muster up whatever strength he had left to steady it. He searched Sam's eyes hopefully, silently pleading that he would make the right call.

Sam looked away. "I can't," he sighed. "Dean I need her to help me kill Lilith," he reasoned. Dean turned away and put his hand over his mouth, forcing down the lump in his throat. His brother was lost. He was truly lost. "I know you can't wrap your head around it but maybe one day you'll understand. I'm the only one who can do this, Dean."

Dean's brows furrowed. This last bit puzzled him. He turned around to face his brother. "No, you're not the one who's gonna do this—"

"—Right, that's right I forgot," he scoffed. "The angels seem to think it's you."

The words stabbed Dean right in the heart. He planted his feet firmly on the floor and hardened his face, masking whatever wounds he felt. "You don't think I can?" he asked. He didn't even believe he could do it.

"No, you can't. You're not strong enough," Sam admitted. Dean never thought he was strong enough, or brave enough, but Sammy always did. He always had faith in his big brother and somehow that faith always got him through everything. This time that faith wasn't there, and the doubt that now consumed Sam made the pain hurt all the more. The words might have been the stab, but now the doubt twisted the knife.

"Who the hell are you?" he snarled, stepping closer to Sam. He didn't recognize this _thing _in front of him. It couldn't have been Sam. Sam wouldn't say that.

"I'm just being practical here," he argued. "I'm doing what needs to be done."

That was it. He tried taking Bobby's advice. Hell he'd even considered Godric's. But Sam was too far-gone. "Yeah?" he stepped closer to Sam with the same fierce anger he'd seen in his father's eyes so many times. "You're not going to do a single damn thing," he pushed through his teeth.

"Stop bossing me around, Dean!" Sam hissed. He could see his brother cracking, allowing the rage to slip through. The same rage that was ignited the night he left for Stanford. Sam took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. "Look," he started. "My whole life you took the wheel. You called the shots. And I trust you 'cause you're my brother. Now I'm asking for once," Sam's voice was cracking. "Please, trust me."

Dean wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he couldn't. He desperately wanted to trust him, but Sam had lied for months about drinking demon blood, _and _vampire blood. He wasn't even sure if that was by force. Not like this. He wouldn't stand by and watch his brother be a part of something so evil. He stood his ground. "No. You don't know what you're doing, Sam."

"Yes I do," he argued.

"Then that's worse!" Dean shouted. "Because it's not something that you're doing, it's what you are! It means…" his voice trailed off. He hated himself for thinking it, but it was the truth.

"What?" He saw the tears in Sam's eyes, heard the disappointment in his voice. "No," he shook his head, gritting his teeth, attempting to hold back the pain that wracked his heart. "Say it," he ordered.

"It means you're a…" Dean didn't want to. He didn't want to use the word. He hated himself because he had created this _thing_ this… "… monster." A tear escaped down his cheek.

Sam stood there for a moment. He turned away from his brother. Dean hated himself all the more. Suddenly Sam turned around and landed a blow to his chin that knocked him to the floor. He stood and looked at his brother. There was nothing but rage and hate and anger in Sam's eyes. _He was a monster._ And the only way Dean knew how to take care of a monster was to put him down like a dog. He punched Sam in the face again and again and again. Sam refused to fall, refused to be knocked down. He returned each blow. He punched him so hard that Dean whirled around and fell through a wall of glass. He could taste his own blood, but he didn't care. It was no less than what he deserved. He stood and threw all of his weight into a punch but missed.

Sam then threw him across the room. He stumbled and fell on his back. His body ached, but somehow the pain would never compare to the hollow ache that throbbed inside his chest. He didn't bother getting up. He wanted to lay there and die. Sam stood over him. "You don't know me. You never did," he breathed. "And you never will." He walked away.

Dean rolled over. "If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back," he grunted. He closed his eyes hearing the door open, then slam shut.


	19. Stop! In The Name of Love

**Author's Note:**

It's go time. Ok not really. I'm busting these chapters out because there aren't that many changes I'm making from the original draft. I hope you're enjoying this story. Please leave a review. Let me know what you think. Thanks!

* * *

Sookie hurried into Lafayette's ramshackle house clutching Bill's hand. She was still frazzled from running into Maryann at her Gran's. The stench lingered on her clothes and in her hair. If it weren't for Bill, and the mysterious light that shot from her fingers, she was sure she would've been dead. When she and Jason arrived in town they noticed that things were a bit strange.

The town looked like it had been turned upside down. People were running around naked, urinating in public, bashing their heads against posts, drinking and fighting. And all of them had these huge black eyes. After stopping at Bill's they realized that Hoyt's mother had the same eyes. And now so did Tara. Sookie released Bill's hand and approached her friend, who was tied to a chair in the middle of Lafayette's living room. She was chanting some sort of gibberish, the same gibberish Mrs. Fortenberry had been saying all night, according to Jessica. Sookie recognized the words and the cadence. Maryann had been thinking the same thing when she had met her at Merlotte's one afternoon.

She kneeled down in front of her friend. "What did you do to her?" she turned to Lafayette.

He threw up his hands, "I ain't do shit. We found her ass this way. She's been saying the same thing over and over for hours now. God knows what that demon bitch did to her."

Sookie stood up quickly. "A demon? Are you sure?" her and Bill exchanged wary glances. Sookie had been able to read Maryann's mind before. If she could read her mind, then she couldn't have been a demon. She was something else…

"Dat woman was pure evil," Lettie Mae interjected. "She poisoned my Tara agains' me," she said, rocking back and forth on the sofa.

"Bitch can you try to not make this shit about you?" Lafayette shouted. Lettie Mae started sobbing hysterically.

"Can everyone please, just be quiet," Sookie asked trying to keep her cool. She kneeled in front of Tara again, and placed a hand on her head. Tara opened her eyes. They were deep pools of black. The sight was unnerving.

Tara looked at the bandage on her wrist from where Bill had fed from her to heal after drinking Maryann's blood. "Did you try to kill yourself? I would too if I had your fucked up life."

"Don't take nothin' personal, Sook. She been sayin' shit like that since we found her," Lafayette explained as he took a shot of tequila.

Sookie closed her eyes and tried to read Tara's mind, but there was nothing there. There was a dark cloud of smoke. Just like before at Godric's house with the demon, Ruby. Finally she gave up, "There's something blocking me. Like an abyss I can't cross. There's a demon inside of her."

"Lord have mercy Jesus," Lettie Mae whispered, clutching her Bible to her chest.

"Sook don't say dat, she in there!" Lafayette shouted.

"I know she's in there, but a demon's in there with her. I need to call Sam," she took out her cell phone and dialed his number.

He picked up on the first ring. "Sookie? Are you alright?" He sounded relieved to hear her voice.

"I'm fine. Everyone in town's possessed, including Tara. We have her here at Lafayette's and I'm not sure what to do—"

"—Do you have any salt?" he asked.

"Salt?" she repeated incredulously. Bill headed for the kitchen.

"Draw a circle of salt around Tara, that way she can't hurt you. Then salt your windows and doors." Bill returned from the kitchen with a box of salt.

"Put it around Tara then salt the windows and doors," she repeated. "Now what?" she asked.

"I'll be there soon. I'm already in town. Don't let anyone in but me, do you understand?" his voice was surprisingly calm, and it helped to calm her own nerves.

Sookie took a deep breath before answering. "I do. How will I know it's you and not one of those things?" she asked.

"It'll be me. Trust me." He hung up. Sookie watched Bill pour the salt on the carpet floor around her and Tara.

"It might be safest if you stepped outside the circle," he warned.

Sookie placed her hands on Tara's face. "I'm gonna help you Tara. I'm gonna make you better, I promise."

"I'm gonna gut you alive bitch," Tara spat. Sookie backed away in terror. Tara laughed maniacally and continued chanting. "Lo Lo Bromios, Lo Lo Dendrites, Eleutherios, Enorches, Bacchus."

"God save us," Lettie Mae wept.

After several minutes Sam entered the house. "Thank God you're here," Sookie sighed. She ran to him, wrapping her arms around his torso. The affection must have taken him by surprise. He stood there for a moment, before draping his long arms around her. Sookie took a step back. "Where's Dean?" she asked.

"We're not exactly seeing eye to eye," he answered. Sookie finally looked up into his eyes. He looked tired, forlorn. She immediately knew that Dean hadn't been as open minded about the demon blood as she had been. If she admitted it to herself, she wasn't all that keen about the idea either. Last night in the church, she felt something. It was dark, and evil. Yeah she drank vampire blood, when her life depended on it, but what Sam was doing, it was like playing with fire. Sam stepped aside to reveal the brunette girl from Godric's lair. She stood on the porch with her arms crossed. Her eyes flashed black for a moment then quickly returned to their deep dark brown.

"Anyone gonna let me in, or am I just going to have stand out here all night?" she sighed. Sam shot the woman an annoyed look before stooping down to break the circle of salt with his index finger. "Thank you," she breathed as she walked into the house.

"Ah hell nah," Lafayette sighed. "You're bringin' another one of them things up in my house?" He backed away as she casted a glare in his direction.

"Look she's here to help," Sam insisted.

"What are you gonna do?" Sookie asked, worried.

"Don't worry," Sam walked over to Tara. "I'm not gonna hurt her," he stopped in front of her and listened to her chanting for a moment. He looked up at the other demon. "Ruby… what's she saying?"

"Beats the hell out of me. I've never heard it before," she answered.

Suddenly Tara stopped chanting and looked at Sam. "Well if it isn't Sammy Winchester… and his demon slut sidekick. Ruby when you get downstairs they're gonna skull fuck you so hard you're going to be crying blood like one of those dead fucks." She nodded in Bill's direction. "Sure you wanna send me home, lumberjack? Why not get a taste first," she flicked her tongue lasciviously at him.

Ruby looked at Sam, almost considering the suggestion. "No," he said to Ruby.

"The bitch has a point, you'll need a can of whoop ass before the night's over," she admitted.

Lafayette looked at the two, puzzled. "The fuck is y'all talkin' about drainin' my cousin? What the fuck are you?" he looked at Sam.

"Ruby go wait outside," Sam ordered. Reluctantly she headed towards the door and went outside.

"Nice to see the bitch does what she's told," Tara scoffed.

"Look," Sam ignored the demon and turned to Lafayette. "I know you don't trust me, I get it. But I can help you. I can save all of you. You just have to give me the benefit of the doubt here."

Lafayette looked at Sookie. "It's true. I've seen him do it. He won't hurt Tara, I promise," she assured him.

"Whatcha gonna do to my Tara?," Lettie Mae asked. Sam looked over at her.

"I'm going to exorcise the demon inside of her. As long as it didn't do anything to fatally injure Tara, she'll be fine." Sam turned to Tara. She was struggling trying to loosen the restraints that bound her to the chair.

"There's plenty more where I came from," she grinned. "He's coming, and he's gonna kill us all…" she started laughing. Sookie looked at Sam. _Who or what was the demon talking about?_ She could feel tears starting to well up in her eyes. Bill placed a hand on her shoulder. She watched as Sam raised his hand and closed his eyes. Tara started to cough and struggle. It looked painful, as she twisted and writhed in the chair. Sam closed his hand into a fist, and suddenly Tara began to cough up black smoke. It spilled onto her lap, then through the floor. Finally Sam opened his eyes.

Tara's head hung in the lock of her shoulders. She was unconscious. Sookie ran over to her friend and began untying her restraints. "Tara?" she cupped her face in her hands. Tears began to stream down her face. "Tara please wake up!" The room suddenly grew silent, other than Sookie's soft sobs. She laid her head in her friend's lap. Bill knelt down beside her and put a hand on her back.

"I'm sorry," he offered her comfort in the way that she had taught him. He tried to saturate his voice with the utmost sincere concern, but nothing helped soothed the ache. Until-

"Sookie?" Tara said in a small voice.

She lifted her head from her friend's lap. "Tara?" She wrapped her arms around her, squeezing her as tight as she could.

"I'm crazy aren't I?' Tara sobbed into Sookie's hair. "I'm really crazy."

"Shh… no you're not. It's okay," she soothed. She pulled away and cupped her face in her small hands. "You're safe now."

Tara looked over and saw Lettie Mae sitting on the sofa. "Oh Mama," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I remember everything, Mama. I'm so sorry." Sookie and Bill stood back and watched as the mother and daughter reunited.

She then looked over at Sam, whose face was less than relieved. "What is it?" she asked the hunter.

Sam cleared his throat. "What exactly do you remember?" he asked.

Tara looked at her mother, and then at Sam. "It was horrible. The things it made me do," she stammered. "I can't… I can't…" her voice trailed off.

"Who was the demon talking about Tara?" Sookie asked.

"I only took it off for a second," she breathed. Tears began to well up in Tara's eyes.

"Took what off, Tara?" Sookie asked.

"The bracelet Dean gave me. I took it off when I was with Eggs." Tears streamed down Tara's cheeks. "It's bad. She's gonna open the door. She's gonna let him out." Her eyes grew wild with fear. Sam placed a hand on her leg.

"I'm not going to let that happen," he promised. "I'll kill Maryann myself." Sam stood up straight. "You should stay here with them," he said to Bill, who nodded in agreement. Sam turned to go.

"Wait," Sookie followed him out onto the porch. He stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn around to look at her. "What's comin', Sam? Who is Maryann gonna let out?" She watched as he turned around slowly to face her.

"Lilith and Maryann are going to break the final seal, and they're going to free Lucifer," he said plainly. The gravity of each word almost seemed too arduous for him utter.

"The devil?" she asked incredulously. Sookie didn't understand. "I thought, I thought you stopped Newlin from breaking a seal. Godric got away, he didn't burn on the altar," she stammered.

"Doesn't matter," he shook his head. "Lilith found another one to break. And if I don't kill her _and _Maryann—" he stopped himself and looked away. Sookie walked over to him and placed a hand on his firm shoulder.

"Don't you think this is all too much for one person to carry?" she asked.

He looked down at her. "I have Ruby," he insisted.

Sookie sucked her teeth. "Sam, don't kid yourself. Look me in the eye and tell me what you're doin' feels right." She searched his eyes for the truth, desperately wishing they could tell her something that her telepathy couldn't. Before he could answer Bill stepped out on the porch.

"It'll be dawn soon," he interrupted, turning to Sookie. "I know someone who might know how to kill a maenad. Lafayette says he'll look after you and Tara. I'll go to ground somewhere close by." He kissed her gently and pulled away. "If somethin' happens, that light… whatever it was. Will you be able to do it again?" he asked. Sookie shook her head. She kissed him again before he sped off into night. Sookie turned to look at Sam, who had been staring at her during their exchange. "What?" she finally asked.

"Nothing," he shrugged looking into the night. Sookie continued staring at him, awaiting an explanation. "It's just, you tell me not to trust Ruby but—"

"I told you Bill's not like that," she interrupted. Her voice was a little too defensive. She couldn't tell whom she was trying to convince, the hunter or herself.

"What did he mean by light?" he asked.

Sookie raised her chin defiantly, "You have your gifts and apparently I've got mine." Suddenly a car pulled up in front of the porch. It was Ruby. Muffled screams were coming from the trunk.

"C'mon Sam. We don't have time to babysit. Let's go," she yelled impatiently. Sam hurried down the porch steps.

"Does this seem right to you, Sam?" Sookie called after him. He ignored her as he slipped his long body into the passenger seat.

"Don't worry, sister," Ruby shouted as she put the muscle car in drive. "It's no one you know." Sookie watched as the two sped away down the parish road. _Oh Sam, what are you doin'? _she thought. This wouldn't end well.

"Sook, getcha ass back in this house," Lafayette called from inside. Sookie opened the door and closed it behind her. Lafayette was pointing a rifle at Tara.

"What the hell, Lafayette?" Sookie shouted.

"Sook, get dem handcuffs out my back pocket," he ordered. His eyes remained focused on his cousin.

Sookie did as she was told, fidgeting through his baggy cargo pants for the handcuffs. "These have fur on them," she observed.

"Just give 'em here," he snatched the cuffs from her and proceeded to handcuff Tara to a leg of a coffee table. Sookie watched him, still confused as to what exactly was going on.

Tara looked up at her friend with tears in her eyes. "Sookie, I have to go back. I have to save Eggs," she pleaded. Finally she understood.

"Oh honey no. You're safer here—" she soothed.

"How many times have you risked your life for Bill? Why do you get that right and I don't? Please, Sook. Help me," she begged. Sookie simply shook her head as she kneeled down to rub her back. "Don't touch me!" Tara spat. "You're a freak and you'll never no what love is," she shouted at Lafayette. "And you had to settle for a dead man," she ridiculed Sookie.

"Uhh… is that really supposed to get me on your side," Sookie muttered.

Lettie Mae got up from the sofa and walked over to Tara. "Love is a terrible thing, chil'," she began. "It'll swallow you up and kill you on the inside," she crooned.

"FUCK YOU!" Tara yelled. "You never wanted to see me happy because you were never happy." Lettie Mae flinched at her daughter's words and placed a hand on her chest, appalled by what she'd heard. She fell to her knees and began praying.

Sookie turned to Lafayette, who had resumed pointing the rifle at Tara. "It's gonna be a long day," she whispered.

* * *

"You did what?" Bobby whispered as he stopped pacing the floor of their motel room in Shreveport. Dean was sprawled out on the bed, holding a small bag of ice to his forehead, which was throbbing like a toothache. He sat up and faced Bobby tossing the bag aside.

"I let him walk out the door," he repeated. He took a swig of Jack. The alcohol stung as it touched the cut on his bottom lip. He was pretty banged up from the fight. More than he cared to admit. The demon blood must've made Sam strong. He clutched his torso in agony as he stood. He tried not to think about how bad the pain would be without Eric Northman's blood pumping through his veins.

"You fuckin' idjit," Bobby yelled. "You're a coward," he forced through gritted teeth. "Just like your father," he pointed a finger into Dean's chest with every word.

"Excuse me?" Dean asked incredulously. "My father was a hero," he corrected, raising his voice.

"Your dad was a coward," Bobby repeated. "He'd rather push your brother away than reach out to him, or try to understand him. But you… I thought you were a better man. But you're just like him." Those words hurt. Though Dean spent most of his life trying to emulate his father in every way possible from the music, to the car, to his old leather jacket, he knew in his heart that his father was a mess. It was Dean who was always there for Sammy. It was Dean who took care of both of them, when he was too young to take care of himself. He had to grow up fast; he had to be a man before his time. Their father was a broken, shell of a man and it took him years to admit it himself.

Dean knew he was broken too. How couldn't he be? The things he'd seen. The things he endured. _The things he did. _He was a man who would always be haunted by his sins. And now he had to add another one to the pile. He had pushed away the only person that looked up to him. That respected and adored him. _He had created a monster. _He stood there for a moment, mouth agape. Taking in everything Bobby had said. Remembering Godric's words. _It is enough. _Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and changed the subject. "So how did you manage to lose Jimmy?" he muttered.

"Bastard got away when I was on the shitter. He's faster than he looks," Bobby admitted, scratching his beard. "That was about four hours ago. He's probably long gone by now," Bobby sighed. Dean feared the worst. What if the demon's got to him? Suddenly there was a familiar flutter of wings. Cas appeared before them in the motel room.

The hunters stared at the angel, stunned. Dean couldn't help but notice that there was a change in his demeanor. If it was at all possible, it seemed like there was an even bigger stick shoved up his ass. "Cas," Dean sighed. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I have received revelation," he replied.

Dean coaxed the angel to reveal more but after a long awkward pause, he realized Cas wasn't taking the hint. "And?" he asked. "You said you had something to tell me. It seemed important."

"I don't serve man, Dean Winchester. And I certainly don't serve you," he replied coldly. Dean was taken aback by his abrasiveness. Before he could come up with a witty retort, Cas had zapped them both into a beautiful room. The walls were ivory with golden trimmings. Framed masterpieces and bronze statues of angels decorated the room. In the center of it was a table. Atop it sat several platters of bacon cheeseburgers and a few bottles of his favorite beer. He looked to see if Cas was anywhere around.

"Cas?" he called. "Where are you, ya dick?" he shouted.

"Well I thought you'd have something nicer to say about the little set up we have here for you," a voice said from behind him. He turned around. It was Zachariah. Cas was standing behind him, off to the side. He wouldn't look Dean in the eye.

Dean masked his confusion and put on a smirk. "Well if it isn't the Suite Life of Zach and Cas," he quipped. The angels looked at each other confused. "It's a show," Dean explained… rather awkwardly. He cleared his throat and changed the subject, "Why am I here, chuckles?"

"To fulfill your destiny," Zach answered jovially, throwing up his hands with delight. "You see, Castiel should've filled you in on how things work." Dean looked around confused. "It's almost time, Dean."

Dean looked at the angel skeptically. "And how do I stop Lilith?" he asked.

Zachariah smiled. "All in due time, my boy. Now, sit. Eat. They're your favorite from that diner in New Jersey," he offered him a cheeseburger. "We need you fit and ready for battle." Dean reluctantly turned it down.

"Well I'm about to me pissed and leaving if you two don't tell me what the hell's going on here," he smirked.

The angel feigned surprise. "Really? Out which door?" Dean looked around the room. He suddenly realized there was no door. "All the seals have fallen, except one." Dean tried to hide the sudden tremor of fear that pulsed its way throughout his body. It was here. It was all down to one seal. Had they even bothered to lift a finger? As far as he could tell, he and Sam were the only ones fighting to keep them intact.

He let out a low whistle, "That's a really impressive score. Nice job."

"You think sarcasm is appropriate, Dean?" The angel's voice grew dark. "Considering you were the one that started all this. You broke the first seal, but the final seal will be different." He walked over to Dean and patted him on the shoulder with a smile.

Dean took a step back, shrugging off the angel's hand. "Why?"

"Lilith has to break it. She's the only one who can," Zachariah answered.

"And the maenad?" Dean inquired.

"Yes Lilith and the maenad," the angel rolled his eyes, exaggerating his annoyance with the hunter. "Tonight at midnight."

"Where?" he asked tersely.

"My, my, my, aren't we the stickler for details," he turned to look at Cas, amused with the hunter.

"Where?" Dean asked again, hardening his eyes and clenching his jaw.

The angel stared at him for a moment, amused that the hunter would attempt to physically threaten him. "We're working on it."

"Well work harder," Dean pressed.

"We're going to do our job, you just make sure you do yours."

"And what is that exactly? How am I supposed to kill Lilith? With the knife?"

"All in due time," the angel assured him.

Dean looked around impatiently. "Isn't now a good time?" he asked.

"Have faith," the angel declared.

This made Dean laugh. A small chuckle that reflected skepticism rather than amusement. "In what? In you? Give me one good reason."

The angel walked over to Dean, who didn't budge. He planted his feet firmly in the ground and went toe to toe with the most powerful creature he had ever encountered. "Because this is your destiny Dean. You brought this on yourself, on the world. You screwed up. You tortured that poor woman; therefore you have to pay the price. It has to be you Dean. It started with you and it's going to end with you."

As much as Dean hated to admit the angel was right, he had to agree with him. He fucked up. It was his mess. He started it all. He looked past Zachariah and watched Cas. Cas hadn't looked at him or spoken to him sense they'd entered the room. He stood off to the side, several feet from Zachariah. Dean wanted to look into his eyes. He wanted to know what happened, why Cas had changed. What had he needed so desperately to tell him? Dean looked at Zachariah. "I wanna speak to Cas," he said. He turned his attention back to the trench-coated angel. "Alone."

Zachariah turned to smile at Castiel before returning his attention to Dean. "As you wish." With that he was gone.

Dean paced the floor, trying to figure out what to ask first. He decided to skip the pleasantries and get straight to the heart of the issue. "I need you to take me to Sam," he said.

The angel finally looked up at him. "Why?" he asked.

"There's something I gotta tell him," he explained.

"What's that?" the angel inquired.

Dean looked at him for a moment. "The BM I took this morning. What's it to you?" he asked impatiently.

"Have you forgotten what happened the last time you met?" the angel asked.

"No," Dean replied. "That's kinda the whole point." _It was enough. _Despite the demon blood and the lies, he still loved his brother. Before everything went down the shitter he needed to tell Sam he was sorry. That he was wrong. That even though he fucked up they could do this together.

Cas looked around the room before his eyes settled on Dean's. "I don't think that's wise."

"Well I didn't ask you for your opinion," Dean replied defensively. "I'm about to do whatever you mooks want. I just need some time to do this one thing. Five minutes, that's all I need."

Castiel paused for a moment, looking into Dean's eyes. "No," he said almost apologetically.

Dean looked around amazed. "I'm sorry am I a prisoner?"

"You can go where ever you want," Castiel answered.

"Super," Dean nodded. "I wanna go see Sam." He suddenly realized that his voice was growing louder and louder as he grew more impatient with angel.

"Except there," Cas responded.

Dean's face hardened as he stared at the angel. "I wanna take a walk—"

"Fine I'll go with you," he interrupted. Frustrated, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "You can't reach him Dean. You're outside your coverage zone."

Finally Dean started to put the pieces of the puzzle together. "Why don't you want me to see Sam?" he asked suspiciously. He started to fear the worst. He was sure the angels had figured out that it was the demon blood that gave him his powers. It was only a matter of time before they'd smite him. "What are you gonna do to him?" he asked, trying to mask the fear in his voice.

"Nothing," Cas replied turning away from him. "He's going to do it to himself." He turned around and stared at the hunter.

Dean put his phone back in his pocket. "What's that supposed to mean?" Castiel looked away, avoiding his question. "Oh that's right," Dean bit his lip trying to contain his frustration. "Tow the company line, right? What happened to you Cas?"

The angel shifted, as if he were uncomfortable in his own skin under the hunter's scrutiny. "We've been through much together, you and I. I just… I want to apologize. I'm sorry it had to end like this."

"End like what?" Dean pleaded. "What aren't you telling me? What was so important that your ass got dragged back to bible camp for trying to warn me? It's Armageddon Cas, you're gonna need a bigger word than 'sorry.'"

"Try to understand this is long foretold. This is your—"

"—Destiny? Don't give me that holy bullshit. Destiny… God's plan… It's all a bunch of lies, you poor stupid son of a bitch. It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line. No more bullshit about being a good soldier, Cas. There's a right and there's a wrong here and you know it. You were gonna help me once weren't you? You were gonna tell me what's comin'? Help me now, please. Tell me."

Castiel turned away. Dean stared at the back of his head, silently willing the angel to stand up and do what's right. "They're going to let Lilith break the final seal. They want Lucifer to be free, so that you can defeat him. That's all I know. I swear." Dean let the gravity of what the angel told him sink in. Millions upon millions of people could die, _would_ die. "What would you have me do?"

"Get me to Sam! We can stop this before it's too late," he pleaded.

"If I do that, we will all be hunted. We will all be killed," he said.

Dean grabbed him by the shoulders, making sure that he was looking into his eyes. "If there is anything worth dying for, this is it," he whispered. Castiel shook his head before looking at the floor. Dean scoffed as he released him. "You spineless, soulless son of a bitch," he shook is head in disgust. "It's a wonder that you even care about dying. You're already dead. We're done." He turned away from the angel. When he turned back around Cas was gone.


	20. Just Give Me That Ol' Time Religion

**Author's Note:**

****So that has been the longest case of writer's block in the history of writer's block and I am soooo sorry, guys. Okay so yeah. I can't promise when the next chapter will be uploaded because I'm changing jobs and moving at the moment, but I will say it won't take as long to write as this one did. I kind of breezed through editing so I do apologize in advance. Just to recap, this chapter begins the morning after Sam exorcises the demon out of Tara. Lafayette and Sookie are keeping Tara handcuffed inside to keep her from going to save Eggs. Dean's still trapped in the beautiful room with the angels. And Sam... Sam's off and he's up to no good. At any rate, I hope you enjoy. Keep reviewing.

* * *

Sookie joined Lafayette on the porch. The heat of the summer day was stifling on the inside, not to mention Tara's mother and her relentless praying and wailing were driving her up the walls. She sat beside him at his little patio table. He was smoking a cigarillo and holding the rifle with the muzzle pointed in the air. "I couldn't stand it in there anymore," she sighed. "It's hotter than hell."

Lafayette looked over at the petite waitress, "That and I'm pretty sure my cousin's thoughts are gettin' harder and harder to block out," he remarked knowingly. She looked over at him surprised at his astute assumption. He had known her for years, just as long as she had known Tara. Obviously he could tell something was wrong. "What was she thinkin' about anyway? Did she remember what dat bitch did to her?" he asked as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

Sookie didn't want to say it aloud. The demon had made Tara do awful things. The tragedy of it was Tara was awake for most of it. Sookie saw the bonfire, felt the heat and the rapture of Tara participating in Maryann's orgy. She could smell the stench of sweat and sex in the air. She could taste the blood from the hearts of Maryann's victims. All of this was through Tara. All of it would haunt her friend for the rest of her life, adding to the pain of a troubled childhood and an abusive mother. Now the only good thing in her life, the only time Tara had ever been happy and felt loved, it was being taken away from her by this evil creature. She prayed Sam would flay the bitch alive for hurting her friend and for ruining this town.

She ignored Lafayette's question and changed the subject. "How's your leg?"

He lifted his leg and moved it around. "Better than ever," he grinned, taking another puff of the cigarillo.

She eyed him suspiciously. "Huh, how'd that happen?" she asked, leaning forward in her seat to get a better look at it.

He sighed, exhaling smoke before he answered. "Eric made me drink his motha' fuckin' blood is how that happened."

Sookie's eyes grew wide with astonishment. "Me too. He tricked me," she shook her head.

Lafayette shook his head too, "Somebody need to slap dat bitch," he pursed his lips.

"I have," Sookie revealed raising her chin with pride.

"Well look atchoo," he smiled.

Sookie hesitated for a moment, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "Have you had any… dreams about him?" she asked.

Lafayette looked at her in disbelief. "Now Sook how would you know that?"

"What kinda dreams?" she asked, fearing that she already knew the answer.

He placed the rifle in his lap, looking down at it as if he were a little embarrassed to answer. "It's like he's always in my head," he finally said, looking up at her. "Sex dreams. All kinda nasty… and fantastic…" his voice trailed off and a faraway look clouded his eyes. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Sookie didn't have to read his mind to know what he was thinking. He shook his head and brought himself back to reality. "Which freaks me the fuck out 'cause I hates that muh'fucka', more than you'll ever know" he rationalized. Sookie pondered the prospect of being with Eric. There was no denying that the vampire was beautiful, but he was so… nasty, and rude, and evil. But ever since she saw him on his hands and knees, begging to be with his maker as he met the sun, it changed the way she saw him. _It's just the blood, _she told herself. Bill warned her about what vampire blood could do. That it could make her feel sexually attracted to Eric, despite her hatred towards him.

She had to admit, that the thought of Bill giving her his blood also made her a little suspicious of her own feelings for Bill. _But Bill's not like that_, she thought. _What we have is real_, she told herself. In that moment she couldn't help but think of Sam. There was no confusion as to whether she liked him or not. But there was the demon blood. She felt silly and hypocritical for disapproving of it, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was just… wrong.

Lafayette studied Sookie for a beat. "You worried about him."

Sookie looked over at Lafayette, confused. "I'm sure he found a place to go to ground," she replied, certain that he was referring to Bill.

"That's not the boyfriend, I'm talkin' 'bout."

"Oh c'mon Lafayette, I know you're not talkin' about Eric!"

"Nope, we both know you ain't that blonde." He stared at her for a moment, watching her eyes suddenly fill with worry at the thought of Sam doing God knows what with that demon. "You scared of him?"

Sookie shook her head. "No. I'd be a hypocrite if I was."

"Yeah well you should be. The guy ripped a demon outta my cousin with the power of his mind. If that ain't some fucked up shit, then I don't know what is."

"He saved Tara's life, Lafayette—"

"At what cost, Sook? You didn't feel that darkness? It's enough to swallow anybody whole. I play around with a lot of shit, but that kind of evil eating away inside of him… It's more dangerous than any vampire."

Suddenly Lettie Mae burst outside, crying. "Oh hell, what now?" Lafayette sighed as he and Sookie got up and walked over to his distraught aunt.

"I can't stay in there with her sayin' those things that break my heart," she breathed. "I will keep guard, while one of you's goes and sits with her," she bargained. "She can't hurt you like she's hurtin' me." She extended her hand, motioning for him to hand over the rifle.

Lafayette looked at his aunt skeptically. "Now you ain't gon' shoot yo'self is you?" he asked.

"Boy show me some respect," she placed her hands on her hips defensively. "I'm the one dat taught you how to shoot a gun when those white boys from yo' school was givin' you trouble."

"Yeah, but Auntie that was a bee-bee gun you used to shoot cats," he scoffed.

"Only when they went to the bathroom in my yard," she retorted. She stuck out her hand again, waiting for Lafayette to give her the rifle.

"Alright now," he said reluctantly handing over the weapon.

Suddenly she pointed it at the pair of them. "Tara baby I got the gun!" she shouted.

"Oh you are not really doin' this?" Sookie asked incredulously.

"Go unlock her handcuffs," she ordered. When they both hesitated she fired a shot in the air. Lafayette instantly fell to the ground in terror. "NOW!" she yelled.

"Ms. Thorton you can't do that. Lafayette was recently shot!" she said running over to comfort her friend. He was trembling.

"Th-the keys are in my p-pocket. But I can't m-move," he stammered. Sookie rummaged through his pocket for the keys and went inside to release Tara.

"You are being a fuckin' idiot," she hissed as she unlocked Tara's handcuffs.

Tara looked up at her gratefully. "I have one shot at true love, Sook. Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same for Bill," she argued. As the two headed back outside, Tara ran to Sookie's car. "Keys?" she asked, turning around abruptly. Reluctantly Sookie handed them over. "Thanks, Sook." She ran to the car and sped away.

"Go Tara," Lettie Mae called after her. "And don't you never fo'get I did this fo' you!" She turned her attention back to Lafayette and Sookie, pointing the rifle at them. "God has given me a chance to set things right with my Tara. I'm not gon' let you take that away from me." Sookie noticed a wooden Buddha statue behind Lafayette's head. "Why he keep shakin' like that?" Lettie Mae asked.

"He's traumatized," Sookie answered. She walked over and knelt beside Lafayette, rubbing his head and trying to comfort him. "Please Ms. Thorton," she begged. "Lower the gun. Can't you see his scared?" She leaned over and whispered into Lafayette's ear. "I'm gonna do somethin' and I need you to move fast. Grab the gun when she drops it." He nodded. When Lettie Mae lowered the weapon, she hurled the statue at her head. "GO!" Sookie hollered. Lettie Mae shrieked in pain, dropping the gun on the porch. Lafayette picked it up, and the two ran for his car. "We gotta go get Tara," she said as they got inside.

Sookie knew they were walking into what might've been a trap. Though Maryann was alone last night, there were demons crawling all over Bon Temps. She dialed Sam's phone number as they sped down the road. It went straight to voicemail. "Shit," she hissed. She turned to Lafayette. He was trying to hold onto the rifle as he maneuvered his way down the parish road. "I can hold that for you if you like," she offered.

He looked over at her nervously. "Naw I got it," his voiced trembled.

"Look," we're goin' at this alone. Sam's not answerin' his phone and Dean is God knows where. If we're gonna do this, then you need to pull yourself together. If you see Maryann, you shoot her in the head," she said. He nodded.

* * *

Dean paced the room for what seemed like hours. He passed the time by throwing porcelain statues of angels and trying to break down the dry wall to escape. But somehow after several seconds, everything would become whole again. He finally took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. The digital numbers read 6:47 pm. It was almost sundown in Bon Temps. He was pretty sure that's where it would all go down. He was sure Lilith and the Maenad were still there.

He scrolled through his contacts, and before he realized he had done it, he dialed Sam's number. The call went straight to voicemail. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably before speaking. "Hey, it's uhh, it's me. Uhhh… Look I'll just get right to it. I'm still pissed and I owe you a serious beat down but…" He exhaled and winced at how unbelievably ridiculous he felt. He felt ridiculous for feeling ridiculous. "I shouldn't have said what I said," he continued. "I'm not Dad. We're brothers, y'know. We're family. And uhh… no matter how bad it gets, that doesn't change." He paused for a moment, not really sure what to say next. "Sammy I'm s—" the phone beeped, signaling he was out of time to continue his message. He closed the phone and put it back in his pocket.

Dean began pacing the room again. He needed to get out of there. He needed to make sure Sam was okay. He knew they could stop Lilith from breaking the final seal together, but with no exits and no help from Cas, he was shit out of luck. He swallowed hard, accepting the inevitable. He stopped in front of the table of cheeseburgers and reached out to grab one. Surprisingly, they were still hot and fresh. He opened his mouth to take a bite.

Suddenly Cas appeared behind him, covered his mouth and pushed him against the wall. He took out the bone-handled knife and looked at the hunter. Suddenly Dean understood. Cas had resolved to help him escape. He nodded knowingly and the angel released him. He took the blade and cut down the length of his arm, drawing blood. He then used the blood to make markings on the wall.

"Castiel," Zachariah appeared. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" Cas touched the symbol on the wall and Zachariah disappeared in an explosion of white light.

"He won't be gone long," Cas revealed. "We have to get out of here now."

"I think Sam's in Bon Temps," Dean said.

"We have to stop him, Dean, from killing Lilith." He reached for the hunter's forehead, preparing to teleport him out of there.

"Wait, wait, but Lilith is gonna break the final seal. Why would we stop him?" Dean asked.

"Lilith _is _the final seal!" the angel exclaimed. "If the Maenad goes through with the ritual and Lilith dies, the end begins." Dean was shocked. "We have to leave, now," Cas insisted, grabbing him by the jacket and teleporting them out of the room.

* * *

Bill rolled his eyes lazily behind his sunglasses. He lowered them to the bridge of his nose and looked over at his queen who was lounging comfortably at the other side of her luxurious indoor pool. He was growing impatient with Sophie Anne's ridiculous demands, having him sit with her in this gaudy "sun" room in an absurd pair of swimming trunks with the artificial sounds of crashing waves and crying gulls reverberating throughout the mosaic tile hall.

"Your majesty, I implore you," he sighed after a while, sitting up in his lounge chair and removing his sunglasses. "The people of Bon Temps are in very real danger—"

"—I'm hungry," she interrupted curtly, ignoring him. She clapped her hands twice. "Hadley! I'm hungry."

"Your majesty—"

"Or am I only hungry because I'm bored…"

Bill stood, attempting to mask his mounting frustration. "There are pressing matters at hand that I need to tend to." She opened her mouth to speak, but Bill continued. "Though your hospitality is greatly appreciated, it is unnecessary. Please your majesty; if you've told me everything about the maenad then give me leave to return to Bon Temps. Sookie needs me."

"What exactly do you know about the maenad?" Bill bared his fangs at the unfamiliar voice that came from behind him. He turned around quickly. Behind the trench coated stranger was a very familiar face.

"Dean?"

"I'll be god damned," the hunter mused. Dean grabbed the stranger by the shoulder and pulled him aside. "Cas what the hell are we doing in a vampire nest? We need to find Sam."

The angel turned to Dean and looked him in the eye. "I don't know how to stop Lilith or the maenad from breaking the final seal. It's my understanding that this vampire does. If we can talk to her, then we have a chance at saving your brother."

"Who let you in here?" Sophie Anne demanded, her fangs bared. "Guards!"

"They won't hear you," the stranger insisted matter-of-factly. "They're… sleeping."

"Sleeping?" Sophie Anne asked incredulously.

"More or less," the stranger shrugged.

"Who are you?"

Bill looked from the stranger, to the hunter to his queen. He casually walked over to Dean placing a hand on his shoulder gently. "Your majesty, forgive me," he began. "I told my friends here that if I wasn't back in Bon Temps by tonight then they should come find me. I just didn't expect them to find me so quickly. This is Dean, he's an associate of Sheriff Northman's."

She eyed Dean suspiciously. "I didn't know Eric associated with humans."

"Trust me lady, it's strictly business," Dean quipped. She turned her attention to Castiel. "And who's this?"

"I'm Castiel, I'm an—"

"He's _my _associate," Dean interrupted. "I hate to interrupt," Dean paused for a moment to brush Bill's hand off his shoulder. He looked the vampire up and down, examining the swimming trunks before continuing. "…Whatever it is you two are doing, but we're kinda on a tight schedule here."

The queen adjusted her luxurious silken robe and returned to her lounge chair. "Really?"

"The apocalypse," Cas answered, his face surprisingly stoic.

The queen exchanged glances with Bill. "How many times have humans been worried about the apocalypse in the last century? What is it this time? The plague? A meteorite? Zombies?" She laughed to herself knowingly.

"I don't give a rat's ass what you think, Red. You tell us how to kill this Maenad or I'll stake you to the bottom of that pool. Don't believe it? Try me."

Sophie didn't bat an eyelash at the hunter's threat. "No need to get grumpy. If that's all you needed to know then you could've just asked nicely." She extended her hand towards a chaise lounge. "Do sit."

The hunter and the angel sat beside each other on the chaise, while Bill took a seat across from them on another lounge chair. She studied them a moment before speaking. "You're not human are you?" she addressed Castiel.

"I'm an angel of the Lord," he stated.

The vampire giggled. "An angel?" she teased. "Well I bet you taste heavenly." Dean cleared his throat. "Right… the maenad," she returned her attention to the matter at hand. "Everyone knows that the ancient Greeks believed the maenad to be the handmaiden of Dionysus, who most religions associate with the devil."

"Preachin' to the choir, Red. Now how do we stop it from breaking the seals?"

"Seals? You mean the Judeo-Christian apocalypse nonsense? You do realize it's all bullshit? I've been around for over five hundred years and trust me, if the world ends I highly doubt it'll be at the hands of some petulant, arrogant archangel."

"So Lucifer does exist?" Bill interrupted.

"Yes… and he's more than some petulant, arrogant archangel. He is the fiercest of God's angels. His coming will bring death and destruction to this entire planet," Castiel stated. "And the fullness thereof."

"Okay, so for argument's sake…" Sophie began. "Let's say all of this nonsense is real. In theory, the maenad is Lilith's original host, her true vessel."

"Lilith… but what about The Mother?" Bill interrupted again.

"Not the same Lilith, Mr. Compton. Do please try and keep up with the rest of the class. The final seal can only be broken when Lilith inhabits her true vessel, which requires a little bit of magic. I mean the maenad is already full of magic. She's practically the Pied Piper of demonic energy. They flock to her and she controls them. They believe she will bring forth their 'god,' but we all know gods only exist in human minds… like morality or money."

"If God doesn't exist, then how do you explain us?" Castiel argued.

"I never said He doesn't exist, I only said He exists in the minds of humans… and angels. Why else would He be taking a backseat on the 'apocalypse?' Doesn't sound like much of a god if you ask me. I mean, surely you know everything that exists imagined itself into existence? Angels, demons, werewolves, us… even the maenad. She's convinced herself that she's immortal and so she is. Her soul was torn from her body, there is no good or evil in her, only chaos… infinite, boundless chaos." She adjusted her hair and let out a long sigh. "Must be nice…"

"You mentioned magic… She needs magic for Lilith to possess her?" Dean asked urgently.

"Correct. Though the maenad is Lilith's true vessel, the demon cannot simply inhabit her. They need all the right ingredients, particularly a supernatural sacrifice."

"The two natured?" Bill suggested.

"Possibly. The Maenad's been trying for ages to reconnect with Lilith and free Lucifer, but she can never get the secret ingredient quite right. That's why the seal never breaks… and Lucifer never rises. Your best bet is to burn the bitch alive."

"What?" Dean asked, confused.

Sophie Anne released an exasperated sigh. "Burning the bones of a ghost gets rid of the ghost, does it not?" The hunter nodded. "Well if demons are spirits too…"

"Then burning the Maenad's bones would kill Lilith and her vessel."

"Yahtzee. Two birds with one stone." She looked past the hunter and the angel at the busty petite blonde in pigtails standing under the archway. "Yes Hadley?" The queen rose from her seat and elegantly walked over to the human girl. She muttered something in the queen's ear before slipping into the corridor meekly. "Well, it appears your _associate_ Mr. Northman is here."

"It is definitely time for me to go," Bill insisted coldly. He stood and walked over to Sophie Anne.

"This alpha-male posturing," she rolled her eyes knowingly. "You two really should just fuck each other and get it over with. I could watch?"

"I best be going your majesty," he bowed curtly.

"Wait… where did your friend and the angel go?" Bill turned around, shocked to see the chaise lounge was empty.


	21. Relapse

**Author's Note:**

Hello all! It's been a long, hard road to this point, but I've finally and when I say finally I mean FINALLY, finished... sort of. I've written out the last couple of chapters and now I'm just waiting on my beta to read and look for plot holes and the like. I'm working on an epilogue/prologue that will lead to the next installment of this crossover series called "Clap Your Hands If You Believe." Please leave a review. If you've been patiently waiting for chapter updates all this time then I applaud you because you're awesome and I know I don't update as regularly as I should, but just... thanks. At any rate, here's the last chapter. Again I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

When they landed Dean took in his surroundings. The place looked familiar, but it was a wreck. Bar stools were turned over. Broken glass and debris littered the floor. Demons were everywhere. Laughing, drinking, having sex on the pool table. "Is… is this Merlotte's?" he asked turning to Cas.

"You said Bon Temps," the angel shrugged. "You did not say where in Bon Temps." Suddenly the demons looked up from whatever they were doing.

They all began to walk towards the angel and the hunter, chanting "Lo Lo Bromios, Lo Lo Dendrites, Eleutherios, Enorches, Bacchus."

"I'll fight them off," Cas insisted. Dean hesitated. "Go!" the angel ordered. Dean hurried to the back of the restaurant. As he was about to head out the back door, he heard a noise coming from the kitchen. It sounded like someone struggling inside the freezer. He pulled out his pistol and made his way over to the large silver door.

He tried to open it, but it was locked from the inside. He knocked on the door. "Hey open up!"

"Fuck no!" a familiar voice retorted.

Dean thought for a beat. "Detective Bellefleur?"

"Who the fuck's askin'?" Andy asked.

"It's Agent Bonham. I'm er… I'm here to help," he lied. Dean heard more than one voice inside. "Is there someone in there with you?"

"Maybe…" the detective responded. "You one of those zombie eyed freaks?"

Dean threw his hands up exasperated. "No, Andy I'm not a zombie."

Andy opened the freezer door and shined a flashlight in Dean's eyes. "He's tellin' the truth," he muttered to the person inside that he couldn't see. "Are the rest of them things gone?" he asked climbing out of the freezer.

"Yes, " Castiel said appearing in the kitchen doorway. "I exorcised a few, but most of them fled. We're safe, for now." Cas watched as Sam Merlotte stepped out of the freezer. "No wonder there were so many demons here. They were after the shapeshifter."

"The what?" Andy asked turning around to look at Sam.

Dean looked at Sam. "You're a shapeshifter?"

Sam looked up at Dean. "What of it?" he asked defensively.

"He's a what?" Andy asked looking from Sam to Dean.

"Detective Bellefleur, this son of a bitch 's'been lyin' to you. He ain't FBI. I know his kind. I can smell 'em a mile away." Sam stepped closer towards Dean.

"Move any closer and I'll put you down like a dog," Dean snarled. "Now I got no beef with you. You're just a guy who just so happens to sniff other people's asses on occasion, but what I do have a problem with is Maryann." The shifter suddenly relaxed, which made Dean feel a little less uneasy. He turned to Cas, "What did you mean they were after the shapeshifter?"

"The ritual, it requires the blood of a supernatural creature, preferably one whose heart still beats. The demons are most likely doing the maenad's bidding. She is quite powerful. Even for demons their behavior is… troubling."

"It's like they're hopped up on hellcat nip, which is a good thing. Whatever spell she's got on 'em will make 'em a little easier to handle."

"The whole damn town's possessed. Andy and I seem to be the only ones who ain't. They tried to kill me once before, but Andy saved me," Sam explained. "He's the only one in town I trust."

Suddenly Jason crept in through the back door. He was holding a chainsaw; he lowered it when he saw the group standing in the kitchen. "Dean? The hell are you doin' here, bubba? You look good." He seemed genuinely happy to see Dean up on his feet. "Last I saw you…" he noticed the angel standing in front of him. "Who the hell is this?"

"I was about to ask the same thing," Sam chimed in, offended that the guy outted him in front of everyone.

"I'm Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord." Cas introduced himself.

"Of course," Sam nodded skeptically.

"Look those demons are still out there. We need lines of salt along every window and door. You got that?" Sam and Andy busied themselves searching for salt. Dean looked at his watch. It was nearly eight o'clock. "We don't have long until kick off," he said to Cas. He pulled out his phone and called Bobby.

"Jesus boy, where the hell you been? You tryin' to give me a heart attack?" the old man breathed.

"I'm fine Bobby, it's Sam. He's gonna break the final seal if we don't stop him. I'm in Bon Temps. We're stranded at Merlotte's for now."

"I'm on my way," the old hunter replied.

"Hey Bobby… take my car," he insisted. The old man hung up. Dean put his phone away. "What's the population of Bon Temps," he asked.

"2,712," Castiel answered.

Dean looked around the kitchen at the small group of men. An angel, a shifter, a detective, two hunters (if Bobby made it into town alive), and the village idiot. "That's six against damn near three thousand demons," he sighed. "Holy fuck, we are in for one hell of a night."

* * *

Sookie stood behind the cover of trees watching as demons danced and chanted around a large statue of rotting meat. Her grandmother's house, the one she took so much pride in, was covered in mud and feces. The stench of it all made her want to vomit, but nothing hurt more than watching her Gran's legacy being consumed by something so evil. She continued to watch in horror, unaware that Lafayette had approached her.

"Don't take it personal Sook," he insisted, placing a hand on her shoulder. "They ain't themselves." His words offered no comfort.

"My Gran lived and died in that house. And now these _things_, who are the exact opposite of everything she stood for are defiling her," she continued looking on in disgust. "I was almost raped in Dallas, but somehow this is so much worse." She turned to look at him. "The first time I met Maryann, I knew there was something seriously off about her. She was thinking creepy foreign stuff and I could tell it wasn't good."

Lafayette lowered his rifle. "I mean you couldn't 've stopped it," he shrugged.

Sookie shook her head. To her it was just another excuse. She felt like this was her fault. If she hadn't ran off to Dallas, if she had stayed home and been there to protect Tara somehow this wouldn't have happened. Tara tried to warn her not to go. But her love for Bill, it clouded everything. Hell, it nearly got her killed on more than one occasion. "How come there's so much evil in the world?" she asked, still looking at the house. "How come so many people are willing to do bad things and hurt other people?" The sun was starting to creep behind the horizon.

"Because they're weak," he answered, steadying the rifle as he watched the demons in the yard.

Sookie raised her chin and turned to Lafayette. "Well I am not weak," she declared. "And I'm not afraid. I am gonna kick that evil bitch's ass outta my Gran's house and then you are gonna shoot her."

"In the fuckin' head," Lafayette agreed.

"Hey! You're trespassin'. You're gon' have to pay a fine!" someone yelled from above them. Sookie looked up. It was Arlene and Terry. The two jumped down from the tree. Their eyes were black. "The fine is a hundred million dollars," Arlene giggled. "And your pants," she added, pointing to Lafayette.

"I'll take that gun." Terry reached for the rifle.

Lafayette stepped back. "Hey, hey! How 'bout drugs? You take drugs?" he asked, slinging the rifle onto his back and digging into his pockets.

"No, I do not take drugs, thank you," the demon replied moving closer to Lafayette.

"C'mon, darlin'. It'll make sex real nice," a black eyed Terry suggested.

Arlene mulled it over for a beat. "Okay…" she grinned. "Gimme!"

Lafayette whipped out a bag of pills. "Gon' Sook, go get Tara. I got them," he urged, dangling the bag of pills while the demons followed him deeper into the woods. Sookie ran to the side entrance of the house and walked into the kitchen. The house was in worse condition than it was yesterday. Animal entrails, feces, dirt and leaves littered the floor.

She stopped in her tracks and listened. There were voices coming from upstairs. "Tara?" she called before running up the stairs. The voices were coming from her Gran's old room. She could hear glass breaking and muffled laughter through the door. "Tara?" she whispered before entering the room. Inside, Tara and Eggs were smashing Gran's porcelain knick-knacks. "Stop! What are you doing?" she cried.

"Aww, tear it up," Eggs laughed. "It's paid for." He threw one of Gran's old bottles of perfume on the floor. His eyes were coal black as he smiled and danced around the room, breaking Gran's mirror.

Tara began unraveling a ball of yarn. Gran was knitting a shawl for Sookie the night she was murdered. Sookie didn't have the heart to pack her things away, but these demons were destroying everything she held sacred. "Tara please! Stop! That's Gran's," she cried.

"Tara's not home right now," the demon laughed. The two finally stopped destroying the room and started to walk towards her.

"Tara, I know you're in there," she started backing away. "Please, don't do this. I know you can fight it." Sookie felt someone behind her touch her shoulder. She turned around. It was Lafayette. His eyes suddenly went black.

"Where you been at? I was lookin' for you," he whispered. Sookie screamed at the top of her lungs and pushed the demon aside. He was too fast. He grabbed her by the arm and threw her onto the bed. "She wants you downstairs. It's almost time," he said to Tara.

"Yeah?" she replied, looking up from what she was doing. "He's comin'," she breathed in awe. "This means he's comin'!" She ran downstairs, giddy with excitement. Eggs quickly followed behind her.

Lafayette turned his attention back to Sookie. "Take off your clothes," he ordered, his cold black eyes lingering over her body.

"What?" Sookie asked incredulously. "Lafayette, please I know you're in there—"

"Take off yo' fuckin' clothes!" he shouted. Sookie quickly did as she was told. The demon reached behind her and pulled out a white dress from a brown paper bag. "Now put this on," he requested calmly. Again, she did as he said. When she had slipped into the gown he pushed her out of the bedroom. "Go!" he barked.

Sookie walked down the stairs slowly. The demon pushed her when she reached the last step and she tumbled to the ground. "Come now, that's no way to treat our maid of honor." Sookie looked up. There standing before her in her Gran's wedding dress was Maryann. "Welcome Sookie," the maenad beamed.

She struggled to her feet. "What the hell are you doin' in my grandmother's wedding dress?"

Maryann ignored her question. "Come, come! Join us. It's almost time." She led Sookie into the living room where Tara, Arlene and a few other familiar faces were gathered. They were all dressed in white, their heads adorned with wreathes. They all gathered around Maryann and resumed primping the maenad's hair and adjusting her dress.

"You have no right to wear that," Sookie snarled.

Maryann looked down at the dress. "Yes I know I should've asked first, but I couldn't find you. You'd probably never use it anyway," she looked up at Sookie knowingly.

"Oh go to hell!" she spat. The demons gasped. Maryann suddenly looked hurt.

"Don't be so negative," she murmured. "After all it is my day."

Sookie looked at her disgusted. "And you're in _my _house, and those are _my _friends. I don't know how you did what you've done to them, but I will _not_ let this happen." She raised her chin defiantly; unafraid despite the fact she was standing in a room full of demons. She imagined Sam and Dean would be rather proud of her in that moment.

Maryann's face grew solemn. She turned to the demons that surrounded her. "Girls would you mind going and helping with refreshments. I need to have a word with my maid of honor." The demons nodded and hurried out of the front door. When they were alone, Maryann took a step closer to the telepath. "I'm all yours give it your best," she glared at Sookie.

Sookie looked at the maenad, confused as to what exactly she was asking. "My best what?"

"The electricity," she answered wiggling her fingers. "I've never felt anything like it. It was like nature herself shooting out from your finger tips. Do it again."

"I can't. It's never happened to me before I don't even know what it was."

Maryann tilted her head, looking at the telepath skeptically. "C'mon, tell me. It's just us girls. What are you?"

Sookie rolled her eyes. "I do not have electrical powers. I am a human being!"

"You keep saying that but if you were human I'd feel it. A thing like me lives off of human energy. Well all the good parts anyway. Lust, violence, anger, greed…" She walked over to the mirror above the fireplace and started adjusting her hair. "You… I just can't seem to get a read on what you are" She turned around to face Sookie. "It'll be our little secret. What are you?"

Sookie stood her ground and looked Maryann in the eye. "I'm a waitress. What the fuck are you?"

"A waitress," she laughed. "Oh Sookie, you're so much more than a waitress. I dare say you're more than human." The thought troubled Sookie. Of course she was a telepath, but she never considered that she wasn't human. Her mother and father were human. So wouldn't that make her human as well? "There's definitely something special about you," she mused. "Something in your blood. I wish I could put my finger on it. Oh well, you're not the only one with special blood in this town."

Sookie thought for a beat. Who else was she talking about? "Sam…" she whispered. "You're going to marry Sam?"

Maryann looked at her as if she had been insulted. "Please… My husband is a god. The most beautiful of all the angels. Sam is simply a vessel." Tears suddenly filled her eyes. "It's been so long. You'll have to excuse me," she said fanning her eyes. "I'm going to smear everything." She took a few deep breaths and turned around to face Sookie. A smile spread across her face. "Once everything is complete, that is once I have the missing ingredient," she corrected. "My husband will come forth."

"Missing ingredient?" Sookie asked.

"The shapeshifter," Maryann revealed. "He's the blood sacrifice I'll need to complete the ritual. Then and only then will the seal be broken. That's why you're here. Sam Merlotte, Sam Winchester… they both have feelings for you along with everyone else in this town. Sam Merlotte is the one who will bring forth Lilith. Sam Winchester will bring forth Lucifer. And you… you will bring me both."

Suddenly Tara entered through the front door. "She's here."

Maryann's eyes went wild with anticipation. "Well bring her in."

A beautiful tall blonde with full lips and a wide smile entered. She was wearing a white evening gown. Her eyes suddenly went white. "It's almost time," she smiled.

"Yes, my dearest sister," Maryann beamed. Her eyes widened in awe. "You're even more beautiful than I remember. He perfected you. An entire race born of you."

The woman caressed Maryann's face, "And soon we'll be one."

Sookie finally spoke up. "You're Lilith aren't you?"

The woman looked over at Sookie, as if she was unaware that the telepath had been there the entire time. "I am."

Sookie glared at the demon. "Sam's on his way to kill you, you bitch. Both of you."

"This is Sookie Stackhouse," Maryann introduced. "She's going to be my maid of honor."

"I wonder if you're as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside," she walked over to the telepath. "How 'bout I rip you open and find out." Maryann stopped her.

"I won't let you ruin my big day," she warned.

Lilith glared at Maryann, but backed away from Sookie. "Let's get started. The sooner we get this ritual over with the better."

"But Sam Merlotte—" Maryann began.

"We don't need him!" Lilith interrupted. "How many times have we tried this? Shapeshifters, werewolves, a fucking swamp witch? We have a perfectly good sacrifice right here. She's obviously not human. Bring them in and let's get started." Maryann nodded and went outside to get her bridesmaids. "She's absolutely delusional, but incredibly powerful." She looked at Sookie, who was trembling at the thought of being a sacrifice. "Don't be afraid little one. We just need a little bit of your magic is all."

"I don't have any magic!" Sookie protested with tears in her eyes. The demon simply laughed.

Maryann entered with Tara, Arlene and several others behind her. They placed several chairs in a circle and sat down. Maryann and Lilith sat in the middle, facing each other. The demons began chanting. "Lo Lo Bromios, Lo Lo Dendrites, Eleutherios, Enorches, Bacchus." Maryann took out a golden knife and a bronze chalice. Lilith took the knife and slit her wrist and bled into the cup. Her eyes flashed white as she looked up at Sookie. "Give me your hand," she crooned.

Sookie shook her head. Suddenly Lilith grabbed her wrist and cut her arm. Sookie cried out in pain. Maryann held the chalice underneath the wound, as she bled out into the cup. Maryann then looked at Lilith. "What now?" she asked.

"Drink," Lilith ordered. The maenad drank the blood. When she finished it, Lilith smiled. "You did well, my sister." Suddenly Lilith shoved her entire arm through the maenad's torso. Black blood spewed everywhere. Sookie shrieked in terror.

Maryann looked at Lilith, confused. "I am to be the sacrifice?" she whispered. "What of my husband?"

"He's not your husband you crazy bitch. He's _my _father." Lilith removed her hand and Maryann fell to the ground. The white-eyed demon then began to say something in Latin. Black smoke filtered out of her mouth and entered Maryann's. For a moment the room remained still. Sookie watched Maryann's corpse for any sign of life. Suddenly she opened her eyes, which shown white. "This body's so gross, and wrinkly," Lilith complained as she stood. "Maenad… witch they're all the same," she mused. "Filthy whores." She looked down at her dress. "Sorry about your grandmother's dress, but let's face it were you really gonna use it?"

"I can't wait 'til Sam tears you a new one," Sookie hissed as she struggled in her seat. Demons were now holding her down.

Laughter rolled from her full lips. "Oh sweetheart, I'm counting on it."


	22. Apocalypse Now

**Author's Note:**

Wow... it's been a crazy, long, exhausting ride, right? But no seriously it's been real. Here's the conclusion to "The Devil You Know." I've put a lot of effort into this, and I wouldn't have been able to finish if I didn't know people were reading it, so thank you. I do plan to add either an epilogue to this or a special short story that will introduce the sequel "Clap Your Hands If You Believe." Again, thanks for reading and please leave a review. Let me know what you think. Okay I'll shut up now.

* * *

"C'mon Sam, let's get a move on here," Ruby urged. They were on the side of the parish road, about a mile from Sookie's house. The sun had retreated below the horizon, and the woods around them started to echo with the songs of night. Ruby moved around to the trunk of the car and opened it. She pulled the demon out. Sam watched the demon struggle. He hesitated for a moment. There was an innocent woman in there. It was one thing to drink from Ruby, but completely draining a woman, killing her, watching the light go out in her eyes… It felt _wrong_. She was wearing scrubs. The nearest hospital was in Monroe. Sam wondered if she had a family there.

"Look at him," the demon taunted. "What's the matter, sasquatch? Don't have the balls?" She laughed. "I knew you wouldn't have it in you."

"Shut up!" Sam barked. This was all moving too fast. He needed air. He needed time to think… He needed _Dean. _He pulled out his phone and turned it on. He had one new voicemail.

"Sam we don't have time for this," Ruby sighed in annoyance.

He turned away from her. "Just give me a God damn minute," he insisted, holding the phone to his ear to check the message. It was from Dean.

_Listen to me you blood sucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you, well I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam. You're not you anymore, and there's no going back. _

Tears welled in Sam's eyes. He quickly blinked them away before turning around to face the two demons. He couldn't back down now. He had come so far. _In the end he'll understand, _he told himself. He was lying and he knew it. If believing the lie would help him save the world, kill Lilith, then it was a pill he'd just have to swallow.

He slit the woman's wrist and drank hungrily. Ruby held her down, her eyes encouraging him as he drained the woman. Sam looked up at Ruby and could see that her eyes had gone black, revealing her true form. It made him sick to his stomach.

* * *

Dean sat in a booth, his gun sprawled out on the table. He took the opportunity to clean his weapon while they waited on Bobby and the small arsenal he had in the trunk of the Impala. Sam and Andy busied themselves with cleaning the restaurant while Jason swept up broken glass. Occasionally, he'd look up from his work long enough to ask Castiel a question.

"So let me get this straight. You mean to tell me all dogs actually go to heaven?"

The angel stared out of the window, not bothering to turn around to answer Jason's question. "Ones with strong emotional attachments to their owners generally do."

"No shit? What about cats?" he probed. Before the angel could answer, Bill stormed into the bar, his eyes fixed on Sam Merlotte.

"You need to come with me now," the vampire ordered.

"He ain't goin' anywhere with you," Andy retorted.

"Woah, woah, woah," Dean stood to his feet and approached the three of them hoping to diffuse the situation. "Let's all just take a breath for a moment. No one's going anywhere until we have a plan, okay?"

"She's got Sookie," Bill announced. "She's in danger. I can feel it."

Jason tossed his broom aside. "Who's got Sookie?"

"The maenad. And if we don't act now she could die."

"Well why the hell are we still sittin' here? Let's go," Jason demanded.

"And just what do you plan on doing? There are thousands of demons out there. You're just gonna hand the shifter over? Let them cut out his heart, open up hell and jump start the Apocalypse?" Dean argued.

"If it means saving her—" Bill began.

"Dean," Castiel interrupted. He turned away from the window. "That's not necessarily a bad thing, handing over the shapeshifter."

"I can speak for myself god dammit," Sam retorted. "And he's right. When your man gets here with weapons, what then? You can't expect to walk in guns blazin'. They'll be expecting that." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I'll give myself up to Maryann." Andy opened his mouth to protest, but Sam stopped him. "It'll buy y'all enough time to kill the bitch when she least expects it." He looked at Castiel. "You think, maybe you can bring me back?"

"Rebelling severed my connection to heaven. I won't be able to heal you."

Bill stepped forward. "I will."

"Oh for fuck's sake," Sam breathed. "Alright," he reluctantly agreed. "How exactly do you all plan on killin' her anyway?"

"We burn the bitch alive. You sure you wanna do this?"

"If it means saving Sookie, and everyone else in this town, then yeah." Dean nodded in agreement, suddenly aware of how admiral this shifter was.

Suddenly, he heard the familiar purr of his baby pulling up into the parking lot. Dean headed for the door. Bobby entered toting a duffle bag. "I brought party favors," he grunted as he lifted the bag onto the bar.

Andy walked over and picked up a jug from the bag, "The hell is this," he asked twisting the cap and sniffing the contents.

"It's holy water," Bobby answered, taking the jug from the detective. "I brought iron, salt rounds, a couple of shot guns," he reached into his back pocket, "and these." He handed Jason, Andy, Bill and Sam anti-possession charms. "They won't protect you from a demon, but they'll keep one from gettin' up in ya," he informed the men.

Andy looked down at the charm and the duffle bag before speaking. "You mean, we're goin' in with jewelry and salt water? We'll be dead by the end of the night," he scoffed.

"We can't shoot 'em, Andy. They're still our friends and neighbors," Sam corrected. He looked at Dean. "I take it you've been up against demons before?" he asked the hunter. Dean nodded. "You're still alive. So I guess that means you're good at what you do," he turned back to Andy. "If they say this stuff will work, then we should listen to them."

Dean was taken aback by the shifter's words. This creature was defending him, a hunter. He cleared his throat, attempting to shake off the awkward feeling bubbling in his gut. "You said Maryann was at Sookie's?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

The shifter nodded. "Whole town should be there. Those demons follow her around like she's the fuckin' pied piper," Sam mused. Dean tossed a shotgun at Andy then Jason.

"Bill, you'll take Sam to Maryann, okay?" They both nodded. "Cas, Bobby, you'll stay with them," he motioned to Jason and Andy. "Try to save the locals. Get everyone the hell outta dodge. When the time's right, I'm goin' after Maryann, okay?"

Bobby spoke up. "What about Sam?" Dean had tried to push Sam to the back of his mind, but his little brother was all he could think about.

"We'll get there in time," he resolved. Before Bobby could protest, he headed for the Impala.

"Time to fuck shit up," Jason smiled as he loaded the shotgun.

* * *

Eggs dragged Sookie outside and down the porch steps. "Let me go!" she protested, struggling to free herself from his grip. All of the demons had gathered outside. Some of them circled the statue of meat, chanting. It was nightfall. A part of her wondered where Bill could be, and if he sensed her fear. She searched the crowd for his pale face, his blue eyes, his dark hair, but all she could see was an ocean of black eyes staring back at her.

Lilith stepped onto the porch and looked around at the crowd. There had to be several hundred demons scattered on her lawn. Sookie could see that some were having sex, while others were fighting. "Stop!" the demon shouted, and her eyes went white. Suddenly a hush fell over the crowd. They all looked up to see who had silenced them. "The time has come. Our father is coming. He's waited so long for freedom." She turned to look at Sookie before she spoke. "He's waited so long for the vessel," she returned her attention back to the crowd. "And now that wait is over!" she exclaimed, raising a hand in the air. "Tonight, we will be one with our creator."

Sookie finally twisted her wrist from Eggs' grip. "No you won't," Sookie stared up at the demon menacingly. "Tonight you're gonna go back wherever the hell you came from." Lilith let out a long sensual laugh.

Suddenly Sookie could hear a familiar voice in the distance. A moment later she could see the crowd parting. "Bill!" she breathed a sigh of relief. He was here.

"I've come to offer this shifter in return for Sookie," he announced as he dragged Sam to the porch.

"Bill, no!" Sookie protested.

"How sweet… Aren't you honorable, sacrificing someone else for the woman you love," Lilith mused sarcastically. "But what makes you think I want him." Bill and Sam looked at each other, then back to the demon, confused.

"That's what you've wanted, right? All these years…" Sam walked up the porch steps. He unbuttoned his shirt. "To rip my heart out in front of all these people. Now that you got me where you want me, you ain't got the stones?"

"Sam, don't!" Sookie warned. Eggs tightened his grip around her waist. She could feel herself growing faint from the blood loss.

Lilith's eyes flashed white. "Well now that you mention it," she plunged her entire arm through his chest. "I am a little hungry."

"Sam!" Sookie sobbed at the top of her lungs. She broke free from Eggs and rushed to his side. _It's okay, Sookie. It's gonna be okay. _"Sam," she cried. Bill knelt down beside her.

"We have to go now Sookie," he reached for her but she pulled away. "Sookie use your gift. Come now, we have to go." As he helped her to her feet, Sookie heard a gunshot in the crowd. She looked up and could see demon smoke filling the night air. The Winchesters were here.

* * *

Sam exorcised several demons at once, with ease. He had never felt this much demon blood in him at once. He made sure that he didn't hurt the people the demons were possessing, only exorcising them despite his urge to flex his muscle and see what he was really capable of. Ruby was at his heels. He could feel her eyes on him. Hell, he could practically smell the blood boiling in her veins.

As he made his way through the crowd, the demons started smoking out on their own. He used his powers to grab hold of them, and sent them back to hell with ease. Finally the crowd had parted enough. He could see her. It was Maryann, standing on Sookie's porch, smiling… waiting. Her eyes went white. So Lilith had already possessed the maenad. Sam used his abilities to fling her off the porch. She face planted in the dirt and started laughing.

"Really?" she giggled. "Is that the best you can do?" she egged him on as she stood to her feet. "I've eaten babies with bigger balls than you," she grinned.

Sam took the opportunity to flex his muscle. He closed his eyes and held up his hand. He was ending this right here, right now. He used his abilities to throw Lilith into the side of the house like a rag doll. Suddenly he heard his brother calling his name.

He turned around. There was still a crowd of demons in Sookie's yard. He searched the crowd for his brother's face. "What are you waiting for?" Ruby shouted. "DO IT!" she returned his attention to Lilith. Sam heard his name again. When he turned around this time he saw his brother fighting his way towards him.

Dean threw holy water into the crowd of demons. He heard a few rounds go off and noticed that Cas, Jason, Bobby and Andy Bellefleur were there. Dean was there. Dean was fighting with him. He hadn't hated him after all.

* * *

Sookie heard another gunshot ring out close by. She shifted her head in the direction of the sound. It was Dean. He was fighting his way towards the porch. Andy and Jason were following close behind, firing rounds into the crowd of demons. "Dean!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. He looked up at the sound of his name. She tried to run towards him, but Bill grabbed her arm. "Let me go," she struggled to free herself.

Dean rushed over to her. "Where's my brother?" he asked.

"He's near the cemetery with Lilith and Ruby," she answered. Bill finally released her. "Help Sam, please. I'm alright," she insisted. Bill knelt down beside Sam's lifeless body, biting into his wrist.

"We've gotta stop him," Dean pleaded. "He can't kill Lilith." Eggs ventured onto the porch. Dean shot him in the chest.

"This way," she shouted. Sookie jumped off the porch. She started running for Sam as fast as her legs could carry her. As she approached him she was flung back several feet. Ruby smiled at her mischievously, as she struggled to her feet. "Oh I have had enough of this bitch," Sookie muttered to herself. Sookie started running towards them again, this time when Ruby attempted to knock her back, she lifted her hands, emitting a soft white light from her finger tips. Ruby went sailing through the air, landing on her back.

Sookie approached Sam, slowly from behind. He was almost in a daze he was concentrating so hard. His hand was lifted up, and his eyes were closed. Lilith smiled. "I knew you didn't have the balls. You turned yourself into a freak, and now you can't even go through with it." She laughed maniacally. Sam opened his eyes. To Sookie's horror they had gone black.

He closed his hand into a fist, and a white light shined through Lilith's eyes. She fell to the ground limp.

Suddenly the remaining demons stopped fighting. Sookie looked around her. The entire town went silent. Ruby approached Sam slowly. "You did it," she beamed. "You really did it," she whispered staring at Lilith's dead body in awe. Sookie looked down and could see that the demon's blood was flowing into the ground in an odd circular pattern. Sam echoed her thoughts.

"What the hell's goin' on?" he asked.

Ruby couldn't contain her glee. "You opened the door, and now he's free at last," she said looking up at him in admiration.

Horror filled Sam's eyes. "No… n-no I didn't. I killed Lilith before she could—"

"And it is written that the first demon shall be the last seal," Ruby interrupted him. Sam's eyes grew wider by the second. "You busted her open, now guess who's coming to dinner."

Sookie finally understood. "Oh my god," she breathed.

Ruby looked at her with a grin, "Guess again."

"You bitch," Sam shook his head. "You lying bitch!" He raised both hands, attempting to kill her with his powers, but his efforts were futile.

"Sorry Sam," she apologized apathetically. "You shot your payload on the boss." Sam looked at Sookie. There was hopelessness in his eyes. He realized what he had done, and there was nothing either of them could do to stop it. Suddenly Dean appeared holding a bone-handled knife. He stabbed Ruby several times in the back before she fell to the ground, dead.

Sam looked at his brother, gratefully. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Dean looked at him for a moment. "I know."

Suddenly the ground began to shake beneath their feet. The remaining demons smoked out, leaving their hosts disoriented and confused on the lawn. Dean looked at Sookie, "You have to get these people out of here now," he ordered.

Sookie hesitated, as she stared at the light emitting through cracks as the earth gave way. She stumbled and fell. A loud ringing pierced the night air. Dean helped her to her feet. "You have to go now!" He turned to his brother, "Sam let's go—"

Sam touched his brother's shoulder, stopping him. "He's… he's coming," he breathed.

Sookie turned and ran as fast as she could. She helped Tara and Arlene to their feet. "We have to move now!" she shouted. She herded the townspeople away from the spectacle and towards the woods. She stopped, turned around and searched the crowd for Jason. "Jason!" she shouted for her brother. She could still see that Sam & Dean were standing by the cemetery. She had to squint because the light was becoming too bright. The ringing in her ears made her lightheaded not to mention the blood loss. She felt herself losing consciousness. As her knees gave way she felt someone pick her up. Her vision blurred as she tried to look up at the person who was carrying her. She could feel exactly who it was. "Bill," she murmured before passing out.

* * *

Sam looked at his brother warily as they made their way back to Sookie's to pick up the Impala. He hadn't said a word on the drive from the airport in New Orleans. Somehow Sam couldn't blame him. He wouldn't blame his brother if he never spoke to him again. He opened his mouth, trying to find the right words to say. Somehow "I'm sorry," didn't quite cut it. He sat there for a moment, watching as Dean barreled down the interstate.

Sam started speaking before he thought of what to say. "Look Dean, I—"

"Don't say anything," he interrupted. Dean paused for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the road. Finally he shot him a surprisingly sympathetic glance. "It's okay. We just gotta keep our heads down and figure this thing out," he stated calmly. "First things first, we gotta go get baby."

Sam didn't know whether to be relieved or disturbed. He knew Dean was a master at burying his emotions, but he expected a little more frustration and anger than this. He took a deep breath, grateful that his mistake, no. Mistake wasn't big enough. There was no word to describe what Sam had done. He drank demon blood, he freed Lucifer from hell. It didn't matter whether he did it intentionally or not. Sam deserved to have a bullet in his brain. And Sookie… He didn't know if she was even alive. All of his nightmares were coming true. He knew that if he remained in her life, that she would end up dead. When he found out Ruby was a demon, he knew that he should've gone for the holy water. All this time he thought he was following his instincts, but his instincts were leading him down the wrong path. _It's not what you're doing, it's what you are. _His brother's words rang in his head.

There was no use in beating himself up about the past. Yes he was guilty, and yes he didn't deserve to live, let alone be riding shotgun with his brother again. But he had a mission. He had to make this right. He had to redeem himself. He had to kill the Devil.

Dean broke the silence. "How did we end up on soul plane?" he asked remaining focused on the road.

Sam was torn away from his thoughts by the question. He immediately started mulling it over the most rational possibility. "Angels, maybe even Cas, beaming us outta harm's way," he suggested.

"Whatever it's the least of our worries," Dean sighed. "It's apocalypse now. Let's just hope Bobby's okay."

They arrived in Bon Temps that morning. It was as if the town had gone back to normal. As Dean headed down main street, he could see maintenance workers cleaning up the streets. They passed Merlotte's along the parish road and noticed that patrons were parked outside of the bar.

Dean pulled off the parish road and headed down the gravel path leading to Sookie's house. He had left the Impala in her yard the night before. Sam sat up in his seat, not necessarily sure what he should do next. He wanted to make sure Sookie was alive, but he didn't want to cause her anymore trouble.

His concern for her well-being won, when Dean pulled up in front her house. They were both astonished that her house was still in tact, except for the mud splattered all over her porch. The ground where the portal had been opened didn't even looked disturbed. Sam got out of the car and headed for her door.

He was knocking like a loon before he could stop himself. Sookie came to the screen door, in her work uniform. Her lovely blonde hair was up in a ponytail, like it was the day when he first saw her sitting on the steps of a crime scene. Despite all that happened last night, she managed to smile. "Sam," she breathed incredulously. She must have thought the worst as well.

Before he could stop himself he opened the door and hugged her, lifting her off of her feet. He buried his face into her neck, taking in the sweet scent of her golden hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck, peppering his cheek with appreciative kisses before breaking away and staring into his eyes. She held his face in her small, petite hands. "I thought you were dead. How are you alive?"

Sam came to his senses and put Sookie down. He cleared his throat before answering, "I don't know," he shrugged. "We just woke up on a plane over Bon Temps. It landed in New Orleans and now, here we are." Sam paused for a moment. He wanted to say more. He wanted her to know how sorry he was. That he regretted the day he ever spoke to her. Not because she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on. Not because she was sweet, and good, and brave. But because he was afraid that the darkness inside of him would somehow snuff out whatever goodness dwelled in her. "I'm glad you're okay," he said, attempting to steady his voice.

Sookie looked at him quizzically, as if there was something _she _wanted to say as well. She simply nodded. "I'm glad you're okay too." She looked behind him, and watched as Dean got into the Impala. She looked up at him again. "So I guess you're sayin' goodbye?"

Sam wished he wasn't, but he knew he had to. If this girl was to ever have a shot at living a normal… well somewhat normal life, he had to leave. Lucifer was free and it was his fault. He didn't deserve someone like her. "Goodbye," he whispered. He turned and walked down the steps.

"Wait!" she shouted, following after him. As he turned to face her, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him the softest, sweetest kiss he had ever felt. There was no hunger, or need like the first kiss they shared. There was only love. She pulled away, resting flat on her feet. She cupped his face with her hands again, and stared into his eyes. "No matter what you've done, there's always forgiveness. You deserve love, Sam Winchester."

In that moment, he realized that Sookie could read his mind again. The demon blood must have been completely out of his system. Did he really shoot the payload on the boss, as Ruby said? Or did it have to do with being put on that plane? Either way, he was amazed that this little waitress from Bon Temps, could offer someone like him so much love and kindness.

He kissed her forehead gently before walking away. He looked at her again as he opened the door to the Impala. As usual, it greeted him with the familiar squeak. He stooped down and got inside, closing the door behind him. His eyes remained fixed on the waitress, as Dean put the car in reverse and backed out of her driveway.

"We can always come back, Sammy," Dean suggested, attempting to offer comfort, even though he didn't deserve it.

"No," Sam shook his head as he continued to look at her. He wanted to remember every trace of her. Her blonde hair, her pony tail, her big brown eyes laced with thick dark lashes, her full lips and the way they curved when she smiled, revealing an adorable gapped tooth.

Dean turned the car around and headed for the parish road. Despite the fact they were in the Impala for the millionth time, and they were leaving another town in their rear view mirror, Sam knew something was different. He could feel it. The stifling summer heat wasn't the only thing closing in around the Winchester brothers in their beloved car. Everything had changed. The apocalypse _was _now.


End file.
